


Soul of a Man: How to Win Over a Prickly Witch

by MadManta



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Autumn Aesthetics, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Ghouls, Halloween, Low Conflict, M/M, No AVALANCHE, Occult Themes, Reno is Not a Turk, Romance, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26717113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadManta/pseuds/MadManta
Summary: It all starts with a dead houseplant. Rude is too embarrassed to take it to the only witch he *knows*, so he seeks out the Sector 2 witch: Reno, a prickly, beautiful man with a reputation for being hard to do business with. But Rude is nothing if not persistent.
Relationships: Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 80





	1. Scarecrow

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! It's my birthday today, so I am spreading the love by posting this autumnal piece about Reno the Witch and Rude the Turk. There are (hopefully only) 10 chapters, and I will post the remaining chapters once a week leading up to Halloween. 🎃🎃
> 
> This story has art featured on Chapter 5, commissioned from @[hallakukka](http://twitter.com/hallakukka)
> 
> Chapter titles inspired by the man himself, Beck.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter @[MantaWords](http://twitter.com/MantaWords)
> 
>   
>    
> 

Once upon a time, there was a witch who lived in a quaint cottage in Sector 2. At least, this witch liked to think the cottage was quaint: it was in the slums, squeezed between two other dilapidated buildings, one of which sold packaged snacks and greasy breakfast food for exactly three hours every day. The witch’s house had character, with strong stone pillars framing the arched black doors. It had two stories with an exaggerated sloped roof that almost looked like it was curling in on itself. A variety of plants in wicker and metal baskets hung lazily under the gutters. The plants thrived this way, making the place look healthy and full of life.

The first floor was a shop full of shoddy wooden cabinets overflowing with lotions and potions. The floors and walls were dark, but the windows let in dizzying sunlamp light, causing dust motes to sparkle in the air. Healing potions and more practical remedies on the right, love tonics, voodoo dolls and the more eccentric items (like the baldness cure, a particularly hot commodity with dubious results) on the left.

Fat striped velvet curtains tied back away from the windows, little branches tucked into the ribbons tying them back. The walls had inset shelves, decorated with mysterious vials, animal skulls, satchels of dried petals, and statuettes. The air always smelled faintly of spicy incense and something nose-ticklingly sweet. The whole place had a distinctly magical flavor.

It helped that the witch behind the gnarled, wooden counter was a slim, pale redhead named Reno, who was venomously pointed to anyone and everyone who came into the shop. Well, the _attitude_ didn’t encourage customers, but the man himself did. He was handsome, with his mop of spiky hair pushed out of his eyes by sunglasses, or his long ponytail curled up into a bun with a feather stuck through it. Angular crescents on his cheekbones emphasized the sharpness of both his face and his words. His seaglass eyes had the kind of glow similar to SOLDIERs, but he insisted he had nothing to do with what happened in the basement levels of the Shinra buildings; he told people he owed his gorgeous peepers to his great grandma he’d never met. He chose not to explain the long, cat-like pupils either, since every witch had them. He wore loose tunics with deep vees, though his neck and chest were usually decorated with chunky jewelry and charms. His bony fingers had ornate rings, and his long legs always dressed in close fits.

Plus, the stuff he sold actually worked. A basic Potion from the Shinra company cost a large chunk of change for the peons in the slums. The ones Reno made were just as effective, if not better, for a fraction of the price. That’s how he lured them in and got them to buy the more occult items: the wards against certain monsters or energies, the charms to prevent status effects, the baldness cures. These cost considerable more gil. Behind the counter hung a sign with glittering letters that had words like ‘palm readings’ and ‘seances’ with large gil prices printed next to them.

At the back of and above the shop was his home. It was a small apartment that was much less ‘quaint’ then the storefront. Reno was a collector of things, both useful and not, and every horizontal surface of his home and some sort of _something_ on it. Bobbles, blankets, books, bullshit. The place was cramped with his things, but he liked it this way. It was chaotic and cozy, and with thick floors and walls he felt it was a true oasis away from the slums itself. It was also the home of his familiar, a fat black snake with an iridescent sheen that he’d inappropriately named Velvet Pocket. She was a little stunted in length, and quite friendly with Reno and not a single other soul. He liked his family as crass as himself.

Today, the witch was polishing a dull, cracked materia when a very serious man walked into the shop.

Well, that wasn’t entirely right: the man _ducked_ into the shop, his bald head nearly level with the top of the door. He was dressed all in black, even to the gloves on his thick fingers, and an expensive pair of sunglasses on his face. His expression was flat and unamused, and in his hands he had a particularly large pot with the saddest house plant Reno had ever seen in his life. It wasn’t fully brown, and wasn’t fully wilted, but it certainly looked two steps from death’s door.

Reno watched the man stalk towards the counter and put the plant down. Reno tsked loudly, letting his eyes flash up and down the customer’s body. He was well dressed, and the smell that followed him in was a clean, upscale cologne with some sweet undertone Reno couldn’t place. He couldn’t see the man’s eyes, and he couldn’t get a good reading on his aura. His beard was almost disturbingly well groomed. Reno disliked him instantly.

“I don’t really want this dead plant,” Reno said, focusing on polishing the orb in his hands rather than attempting to look the stranger in the face. The other man was in sunglasses, it wasn’t a fair game. “It makes my healthy plants sick.”

The man didn’t even flinch. “I need you to fix it.”

Reno sucked at his teeth. “I ain’t a mechanic and that ain’t a bicycle. Nothing to fix, pal.”

The man pushed his sunglasses up his nose. “I need you to bring this plant back to life.”

That did catch his attention. Reno scoffed. “Yeah. Pass.”

The stranger seemed genuinely taken aback by this, a surprised grunt passing his open lips. Reno smirked at that. “But—I can pay you,” he stuttered.

Reno finally looked up then, shrugging. “To water your own damn plant? _Hard_ pass.”

The stranger’s eyebrows drew down. “It’s not my plant, it’s my boss’s. And if I give him his plant back, dead, he will kill me.”

Reno’s smirk drew out horribly wide. “I don’t know who that is, but he sounds _great_.” He waved the polishing cloth at the stranger, dismissing him. “Take this plant and get out of here.”

Once again, the man seemed perplexed. The shock was almost cute. Almost. His lip turned down into a fierce sneer as he picked up the plant again. “Fine,” he said, and stomped out the door. He hit his head on the doorframe.

Reno hummed happily, and tucked the decorative materia back onto the counter. “Have a nice life, asshole.”

The next day, the asshole returned.

Reno was honestly surprised at the sight of the same man in nearly the same outfit stepping through his jingling door. The plant was in his hands again. Reno groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The man put the potted plant down on the counter, and then scooted it to the side so that it was not between him and the witch. He held out his hand. “I’m Rude,” he said.

Reno stared at him for a beat longer than the other man expected. His shirt yesterday had been black. Today, dark purple.

“Sorry,” he said, his hand balling into a fist, and then stretching out again. “What I meant was, my name is Rude.”

“So it’s just in your blood, then,” Reno said, folding his arms. He had his nails painted black, and they tapped at his arm impatiently.

The man — Rude — pulled his hand back then, and Reno caught him rub the palm of it nervously on his thigh. Reno lifted an eyebrow. “We got off on the wrong foot. I’d like to apologize.”

“For what, exactly?” Reno asked.

Rude was silent for a long moment. He opened his mouth, grunted, and then closed it again. The silence began to drag out until Reno cleared his throat meaningfully. “Uh,” Rude said, “for whatever it was, that upset you?”

“Get out of my store,” Reno said, eyes those of an angry cat, narrowed in on Rude’s sunglasses.

Reno could swear that he saw a blush fill in on the tall man’s cheeks before he turned tail and escaped out of the shop — but not without slamming his head on the doorframe, again. Reno laughed until he looked down and saw the plant still on his counter. “Hey! Wait!” he yelled, jumping over his own counter and throwing his door open. “You forgot your fucking _plant!_ ” 

Rude had completely vanished.

“What in the hells,” Reno uttered, and then slammed his front door shut as he stared at the stupid plant. It really did look pathetic. He didn’t care for the man who had brought in the plant, but it wasn’t the plant’s fault. As a matter of fact, it sounded like this plant had a home and a family, and he’d just been left with the world’s worst babysitter. Reno pitied this damn plant.

He lifted one of the limp stems sadly, shaking this plant’s hand after he had refused to touch Rude’s. “You got a name, partner?” he asked it. The plant did not respond. Because it was a plant.

Reno found himself charmed by this thing, with a thick stem and long green vines that, on a healthier plant, could probably stand up and out by themselves. He wanted to save this plant. He kind of wanted to _steal_ this plant so that it wouldn’t end up in Rude’s incapable hands ever again. But he also knew the asshole would be back, and that once again, this house plant had a _home_.

“You are so lucky I know another witch who can actually help you, yo,” Reno said to the plant, dropping its leaves. “Though I don’t think I’m going to trek your heavy ass all the way out there.” The plant drooped. “Aww, partner, don’t look at me like that!” He sighed, hefting the enormous pot off the counter and waddling into his back rooms, which was more or less his laboratory where he made his wares. He set the plant down in front of a window and grabbed a watering can, wetting the soil completely. “Think you can hold out for a few hours?” he asked it, and then found himself smirking as he thought of a proper name for the plant. “It’ll be worth it, Aibou.”

The plant seemed relieved, but that may have been the water. Reno went to his phone and dialed a number he hadn’t called in a long time. He was embarrassed on the phone, apologizing for falling out of touch, for only calling when he needed a favor, but the response was immediate.

“You have a sick plant?” she said, and even through the phone her empathy for the damn thing was palpable. “I’ll be there. Think you can make me dinner for my trouble?”

“Yes, Aerith,” Reno said, rolling his eyes even as he smiled. “Thank you. I figured you’d know what to do with this stupid thing.” He winced, looking at the plant, and mouthed, ‘Sorry!’ at it.

“Pork buns please!” Aerith said, and then hung up. Reno swore at the phone. Pork buns?! Maybe the place next door would have some.

  
  


Aerith tore through five of the eight buns Reno had managed to scrounge up as she listened to the story of Aibou, the Abandoned Plant. She had lightly been touching its delicate, sad leaves while she bit into clouds of dough and barbecued meat. “Why didn’t you just help the guy in the first place?” she grinned.

“He was an asshole,” Reno shrugged. His tone had a bit of finality to it; the kind of statement that Aerith had heard on many occasions that implied, ‘and that’s the end of it.’ She was too stubborn to accept the answer though, and poked him in the cheek while he chewed as well. His face grew indignant.

“What did he _do_?” Aerith wheedled, her hand on the plant beginning to sparkle a little under her as she worked her literal magic. She hummed into the bun, a familiar little ditty that Reno couldn’t even be mad at since he associated it with the smell of flowers and the feeling of heartwarming memories.

Reno swallowed the last of his dinner. “Real rude. Pushy.” He caught himself grinning. “It was even in his name?”

“His name was Pushy?” Aerith chuckled, finishing off her food as well.

“Rude, actually,” Reno said as he watched the leaves perk up, stem fattening up in front of his very eyes. It was always strange to watch it work; it felt like it was blurred in front of him, like it was hard to look at.

“Rude, huh? In an expensive suit, and sunglasses?” There was a sly lilt to her voice.

“Yup. Weird, right?”

Aerith knelt down in front of the plant, smiling at it fondly. “So your daddy must be Tseng.”

Reno rolled his eyes. “How the hell would you know that?”

“You really didn’t recognize the guy?” Aerith asked, turning to look at Reno as the last of her sparkling magic, a unique manifestation of the life stream that she could feed into flora, twisted up into the air and back into the flow of life itself.

“From where? You think I go to Asshole Conventions, Aerith?” he snorted.

“Honestly? You probably would,” Aerith said with a smirk, and then folded her hands behind her. “That guy’s a Turk. And his boss, Tseng, is… A long time friend.” She tilted her head a bit. “Because of that, I won’t charge you anything.”

“You ate most of my buns!” Reno snapped, and then his mouth went slack as the gears in his head started to turn. “Wait a minute, a _Turk_? Of course you know the fucking Turks,” he chuffed, putting a hand on his forehead. “Shinra’s been after you for what, twenty years?”

“Well, closer to fourteen. But for all that time, Tseng was always there. Kinda like a really somber older brother.” She spread her hands. “And Rude is a very nice man, Reno. I bet you had him shaking in his fancy shoes.”

Reno’s hand moved to tap at his own chin. “He _was_ pretty nervous.”

She rolled her eyes and walked past him. “Well, you _are_ his type. Anyway, I’ve gotta go. Mom’s been getting extra paranoid lately and likes me home early.”

He watched her go dumbly, and then a choking sound escaped his throat as he stumbled after her. “What do you mean, his type!?”

“Have a good night, Reno!” came behind his door that she’d closed with a jingle.

Reno harrumphed, locking the doors to his shop before climbing up to his apartment with a grumble. “Whatever his type is, it’s not me.” Saying it out loud made it seem much more believable.


	2. Get Real Paid

The asshole returned again the next day.

The Turk. The _Suit_.

Reno figured there was a less than five percent chance the guy wouldn’t show up, what with having left his boss’s precious plant child all alone in a strange man’s shop. Reno had brought Aibou out, full and lustrous and happy, and set him on the desk while he attached sticker labels onto his potions.

Forty five minutes after opening, his first customer was ducking heavily under the low arched door. Same expensive sunglasses and suit, though the shirt was different again, a silvery gunmetal with a sharp black tie. His crystalline tie pin glinted in the light. He looked very reluctant to be there, at least, until his line of sight landed directly on Aibou.

His mouth fell into an ‘o’ of shock that was so cute Reno hit himself with a swat on the wrist. It wasn’t his fault he was furious at his own traitorous body for finding that expression _adorable_ , because nothing about this _asshole_ was adorable.

“How did you…!?”

“You care so little about this little guy that you left him here,” Reno said, placing the roll of stickers down on the counter. “So I took pity on him and used a little Reno Skills on him.” Had he meant to say his name? What the hell. Had Aerith planted some sort of self-sabotage hex on him or something?

Rude took five long steps and then he was at the counter. He pressed his gloved hands together in gratitude. “I will pay you _whatever_ you ask. My god, look at it. Does everything else in here work as well as your…” Rude seemed to pause, a strange look coming across his face that almost looked like amusement except it was much too bland. A bit of color rose to his cheeks. “Reno skills?” he finished.

Reno snorted. “Everything works better. That was nothing.” Nothing of Reno’s, anyway, but why did this sad sack have to know that?

The corner of Rude’s mouth tipped up in a barely noticeable grin. Reno found it infuriating, mainly because he felt a strong urge to see that expression again _immediately_. Rude tilted his head at him, questioning, “So..?”

“Ten thousand gil,” Reno said, raising a thin, dark eyebrow. He stared at Rude haughtily while the bald man’s face changed from one very well-hidden emotion to the next: shock, amusement, further shock, and finally, what Reno had been goading for: irritation.

“I know I said anything,” Rude began with a dangerous softness, “but that is a little…”

Reno reached out, curling an arm around the wide base of the plant and dragged it closer to him. The plant even seemed to sway in his direction. “No money, no plant.” He pretended to look away, though he had to keep an eye on the man rapidly descending into some new withheld emotion.

“I don’t have that much cash on me,” Rude said, his voice taut with silent tension. “But if you’re willing to compromise…”

Reno turned to look at him then, tapping his lip as though he had a grand decision to make. “I’m listening.” He watched as Rude pulled out his wallet — starting off good! — and pulled out a thick black card. It had an almost red sheen when it moved in the light. He held it out. “I’ll let you use the company card. For a month.”

The _clout_ of this asshole, Reno thought; he would never have known that this uptight jerk worked for Shinra if Aerith hadn’t known his boss personally. Company card could have meant anything. Though the telltale white and red logo was plainly visible on the front. It looked heavy; as heavy as a Shinra-loaded credit card could be.

Reno wanted very much to drag him over the coals, but his voice cracked a bit when he said, “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

What made him more furious was that the tiny smirk, only a little wider this time as it spread out on Rude’s lips, still gave Reno a cheap thrill.

“What if I showed you what it could get you?” Rude asked, flipping the card back into his wallet. “I’ll take you out, somewhere nice. Quiet. You could order the whole menu, for all I care. And if you think something like that could cover your needs for a month, then we’ll have a deal.”

_He’s asking me out on a date_ , Reno thought, and knew his own face was going through its own mini melt down. _Because I’m his type. That asshole!_

Reno’s arm tightened around the pot in self defense as he felt his own cheeks growing hot. “I’m not giving you the plant ‘til I get paid.”

Rude nodded. “Tonight, then? I’ll swing by at seven, take you topside, have you back here with a heavier wallet by ten.” He jerked his head. “Then I’ll take the plant.”

“How are you asking me out right now?” Reno asked, his voice quiet and almost breathless.

Rude tipped his head down enough that he was gazing at Reno over the top of his sunglasses. “I can’t help it. Guess I have a type.” His eyes were so warm that Reno caught himself staring.

Reno tried very hard to not look surprised at him admitting it outright, and instead focused all his fury that Aerith had been right into his thin lipped frown. “And what’s that?”

“Pretty and scary,” Rude admitted, and pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Seven?”

Flustered, Reno turned around at the counter. “Fine! Get out of here!” he spat, knowing the tips of his ears must have been the color of his damn hair.

“See you then, _Reno_ ,” Rude hummed, and stepped out of the shop. He didn’t even hit his head on the doorway this time. That. Asshole.

What was worse was how excited Reno suddenly was for seven PM.

“This is your fault,” he scolded Aibou, but it seemed to thrive in his attention. He sighed, and went back to sticking stickers on potions, only now his thoughts were occupied with ‘what the hell am I going to wear?’

Rude’s car — though it could have just been a company car — was _nice_. Reno was melting into the warm leather front seat. He was wearing inappropriately tight leather pants with a tie-front and an emerald green blouse that cut a deep vee. He was buried under his usual stack of jewelry; silvery necklaces with golden charms, his chunky rings, one large leather bangle attached to one of his large rings by a thin chain. Rude was dressed much the same as he had been this morning, which felt like disappointment. Was it _not_ a date? Or was it just that Rude was some kind of cartoon character, who only wore the same suit ever day? (Not that Reno was going to admit it was a nice suit with its own set of inset jewels and expensive details — and the strange chains he wore at his right side seemed downright enchanted.)

Rude had also been noticeably quiet. He’d opened the car door for Reno and then got out of the slums and onto the expressway as quickly as he could. Reno watched his knuckles tighten on the steering wheel every couple of minutes, as though a particularly bad thought had made its way into Rude’s empty head.

“So, where are you taking me?” Reno asked, folding his arms with a pout.

“Palisade’s,” Rude said.

Reno waited for him to deliberate further, and then frowned when Rude stayed quiet.

“Jeez, the food better be worth it if the company’s going to be this enjoyable,” Reno grunted.

That got Rude’s attention. Reno watched out of the corner of his eye as Rude’s mouth worked, opening and closing while he tried to come up with something to say. Infuriatingly, after thirty long seconds, the only word Reno got was: “Sorry.”

Ramuh’s wrinkled balls, this was gonna be miserable.

Thankfully as they arrived above plate, Reno could enjoy looking at the outside world. At night, the city sparkled, the eerie light of mako fog adding a kind of haziness that Reno found oddly comforting. As they approached the expensive area of Sector 1, Reno watched more and more trees come into view. They pulled in front of the restaurant, which was overly tall with a sleek glass front showing off a lush, rich interior. Rude used valet parking and then guided Reno, who stuck out like a sore thumb, into the restaurant.

They were seated in a cozy table near a wall and left with menus that were both small _and_ intimidating. Reno let out a slow breath that turned shaky as he realized just how out of his element he was in a place like this with a total stranger.

Well, mostly total stranger.

Rude had this strangely chagrined expression on his face, which made Reno irritated all over again. This uptight man had managed to _trick_ Reno into a date by sheer charm this morning, and yet here he was in the romantic lighting of a quiet restaurant with his sunglasses and _gloves_ still firmly in place. Rude looked like a bodyguard babysitting the president’s kid.

Reno’s upper lip curled when he realized that this was something Rude had probably done before _with just that person_.

“Anything catch your eye?” Rude asked, tilting his head. Reno couldn’t get a read on what the man was actually feeling.

“I dunno, whatever the most expensive thing on the menu is.”

Rude’s mouth stayed a flat line. “Not the most delicious thing?”

“Fine,” Reno said, pushing away from the table to fold his arms, but keeping seated as he chose to look away from the other man. “Order the most delicious thing on the menu for me, and the most expensive thing for you.”

Reno was doing his damndest not to watch Rude’s face, but he had to look, and the man’s damn eyebrows drew up above his shades. Reno gave a soft ‘hmph’ noise and continued to look away. Their waiter came back, and Rude rumbled out their order: “Surf & turf for me. Rare please. Mu ragu pappardelle for him. And a bottle of Assyrtiko?”

The waiter left with a gentle incline of his head. Reno watched the other man settle somewhat uncomfortably into the silence. Was he pretending this wasn’t a date, now? Was this his way of reminding Reno this was just to show off the weight of a damn credit card?

“Why didn’t you go to Aerith?” Reno blurted out, and then bit down on his lip. He hadn’t meant for that errant thought to slip out.

Rude’s expression grew much more genuine in its embarrassment. “What…?”

“You know who she is,” Reno accused, finally turning to look at Rude. He let his eyes narrow in on the man. “And if you know who she is, you know she’s real good with plants. Why didn’t you go out to her shop and ask for a favor?”

Rude was quiet for a moment, one leather-clad fist squeezing uncomfortably below the table. “She would just tell Tseng about it.”

Reno couldn’t believe Aerith had been telling the damn truth. “So?”

“The whole point was to avoid Tseng finding out I’d nearly killed his longest living houseplant,” Rude sighed, staring at the table setting in front of him. “Aerith could fix it, sure, but she’s a little mean.” It was said with such fondness that his mouth turned up a bit. “She’d never let me live it down. And I knew she wasn’t the only witch in town, so I started asking around, and found you.”

Reno scoffed. “And then you walked in like you owned the place and I owed _you_ a favor.”

The conversation was interrupted as the waiter returned with two wine glasses and an attractive bottle of wine. He poured out two glasses, bowed, and then disappeared again.

“I had been up the whole night looking for a better option. Tseng is back in two days, I was getting…” Rude cleared his throat, picking up his glass and taking an unflatteringly large swallow of the drink.

“ _Desperate_?” Reno challenged, his canines flashing. He sniffed at the wine and tasted it, surprised at the combination of salty and sweet. He couldn’t be too surprised that the Suit with all the money had good taste in wine.

“Antsy,” Rude politely corrected. “And a little bit asshole-ish.”

Reno let that admission settle over him before he scoffed again. “What took you so long finding me, then?”

“Most people who go out of their way to advertise being a ‘witch’ don’t tend to be the real deal,” Rude said, scooting back and sitting up straight. He was clearly trying to stop his hands from fidgeting, or worse, chugging the wine. “Actual practitioners tend not to be very popular, what with the rumors of occult stuff, so the ones claiming to have a house witch in the back or whatever just tend to be bodegas hawking expired Shinra potions with new labels stuck on.”

Reno tried to hide his grin.

Rude continued, “So I ended up having to start asking around. I heard about the materia-focused witch, Yuffie, but I didn’t think she’d be able to do what I needed. But when I heard about you…” Rude shrugged, the gesture tight and small, but slow. “There wasn’t a whole lot of information about you. Which made me think you were good at covering your ass, which meant you probably had something worth covering.” Rude’s cheeks turned pink, and Reno let a full-on smirk slide over his face as Rude took another drink. “Skill-wise. I mean. Turns out I was right.”

Reno sighed, unfolding his arms and picking up the fork in front of him to fiddle with it. “I guess,” he said boredly. His eyes rose to Rude and watched the other man visibly deflate. Reno almost felt bad in that moment, but what else was he supposed to do? Just let it go and have a nice time with The Asshole?

Though the man was persistent, Reno had to give him that. Rude just cleared his throat again. “What else do you do? You’re clearly a master of potions. You wear a lot of nice pendants,” he pointed out. Reno frowned at the compliment. “Wards?”

Reno sighed. “Yeah. Potions and poisons. Wards on charms, different kinds of readings. Certain spells for certain people. And I guess I have a way with animals.”

Rude perked up at that. “Oh? Does that mean you have a familiar?”

Reno’s irritation was starting to come from how much he _wasn’t_ mad at the man for the conversation. “I do,” he said, purposely starving him of information.

“People call my cat a little magical, sometimes,” Rude murmured, so quiet and self-indulgent that Reno almost missed it. “Just with how he can convince anyone to feed him.”

“You nearly killed a houseplant, yet you have a _cat_?” Reno asked in shock.

“Hey, a houseplant won’t complain to me nonstop if it’s hungry or thirsty,” Rude chuckled, and a real blush touched his cheeks.

“That poor cat,” Reno tutted.

“He’s spoiled rotten, and he knows it,” Rude said defensively. Reno didn’t even try to correct him, since their food arrived. Reno was grateful for the chance to stay quiet and stuff his face with what genuinely turned out to be quite tasty.

Rude finally removed his gloves, carefully pulling them off and tucking them into his lap. Reno smirked as he watched Rude cut into his steak, purposely avoiding the large lobster tail sitting plumply on the side of the plate. Maybe he secretly hated lobster, but ordered it anyway because Reno had told him to. This guy was a pushover. As Reno finished his wine and cleaned up the last of the thick pasta from his plate, he had to wonder if that was necessarily a bad trait.

The waiter returned and Rude murmured something to him; Reno watched in suspicion. The last thing he wanted was some new surprise. He had eaten the food and made nice. That was his obligation for a task he didn’t even do. But when the waiter returned, it was just with a small box and a device he used to recork the bottle of wine.

Reno’s eyebrow slowly lifted as he watched Rude meticulously cut up the lobster tail and place it in the box. “Don’t like the ‘surf’ part, huh?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Rude shrugged, glancing up at Reno and he caught the flash of the other man’s honey eyes again. “It’s for Magnus.”

“Who the hell—” Reno’s lips froze, and then he smirked. “Your _cat_?”

The tips of Rude’s ears turned pink. “I figured he’d like it.”

“Boy, you weren’t kidding. Bet he eats like this every night, huh? How often you in here?”

Rude cleared his throat. “Rarely,” he admitted, and then closed the small box. The gloves came back on, a sign that he was done eating. “I don’t really go out to places like this that often.”

“Yet you knew exactly what to order?” Reno scoffed.

“Small menu, lucky guess,” Rude said, and then the hint of a smile caught on his lips. “Does that mean your food was delicious?”

“It was fine,” Reno said, another acidic blow that kept Rude’s charm at bay.

The Turk cleared his throat again, the bad nervous habit he’d had the whole damn night. “Well, hopefully this at least shows you the weight of the card—”

“I ain’t taking your money,” Reno said gruffly. “You’ve more than paid me for my ‘services’ with substandard noodles and corporate company, and I’d like you to take me home now.” Reno knew that it was harsh, but the guy’s ego could have used the push in the mud.

He watched Rude’s face grow closed off in real time. The Turk nodded, paid for the meal, and passed the bottle of wine to Reno as they made their way out. Reno rolled his eyes but took the mostly full bottle in hand. He and Aerith could drink it later.

For some reason, Reno found it almost strange that the other man had completely lost the ability to talk. There was no way a few sharp words had cut the other man in any substantial way, but at least with no attempt for further conversation, Reno could think about something else.

The car ride was miserable, since he actively could not think of anything else except the man who had tried very hard to charm him even when Reno had lashed out every step of the way.

When they pulled up to his little shop, Reno didn’t wait for Rude to try and open his door for him, instead bounding up and out. Rude joined him, but Reno held up a hand. “Stay here,” he said, forcing Rude to wait at the shop’s front door while Reno dashed inside to put the wine down and grab the damn plant.

Rude was still there, stoic as ever, as Reno shoved Aibou into the man’s arms. Rude shifted the plant into the crook of his left arm so he could use his right to reach for Reno’s hand. Reno stared at him in surprise as the Turk lifted his hand to his mouth and softly kissed his knuckles. “Thanks for the magical evening,” he said, the joke falling flat with how serious his tone was. “Goodbye.”

He returned to the car with the plant and drove away, and Reno couldn’t help staring out at the tail lights with a bewildered feeling. He couldn’t even be properly angry about the ‘magic’ pun, as he was so distracted by how warm his hand felt, and the finality of his words.


	3. Lonesome Tears

The Suit did _not_ return.

Reno had been relieved at first that he would not have to deal with apologizing to the man who he honestly thought would just show up again. So with no Turk, came no feelings of discomfort. His shop returned to normal, selling his potions to grannies and older teenagers; his charms went to young unwed ladies and old paranoid widows; and occasionally, a down on his luck man would wander in asking for a fortune telling.

After a week, Reno found himself begrudgingly missing the man who did not belong. He spent one night laying on his bed made up of soft quilts, while Velvet slowly coiled along his arm. The snake sensed his lethargy, but he hardly noticed her. Instead he found himself stupidly looking at that bottle of expensive wine he’d set on his desk and not touched since.

Velvet’s feathery little tongue tickled at the crook of his elbow and he grumbled, “Don’t you judge me.” She unfurled, slithering onto his bare chest for warmth. They fell asleep, the last image in Reno’s mind that damn bottle. His dreams were foggy and hard to remember, other than catching the image of light glinting off of sunglasses.

Weeks passed, the chill of autumn starting to settle into the streets. While the slums did not have trees, it frequently got the pollution and runoff from the upper plate, and the usual compost of leaves had been particularly orange and red. Reno had distracted himself from any regrets by preparing for the depth of his work. Autumn was his busiest season, simply because it was the best time to gather a lot of the ingredients he used all year long, and the time when the connection to the life stream was at its strongest.

Aerith stopped by his shop at closing, bearing gifts of dinner — her mother Elmyra’s lasagna and bread sticks — and poisonous herbs from her garden that Reno had sorely been missing. She had also clearly been needing a reason to complain about the woes of her own Sector 5 shop.

“…as if I could raise the dead,” she laughed, taking a bite of buttery bread. “He was so mad, I had to mystify him to get him to leave.”

“You really do attract the crazies,” Reno sighed, slopping the thick pasta and red sauce around on his plate, a tinge of memory raising its ugly head as he thought of expensive pappardelle.

“Well, you’ll never guess who showed up yesterday.”

“That blonde guy you never shut up about?” Reno asked, smirking.

Aerith blushed. “No! Tall, bald and handsome.”

Reno _did not_ blush. (He did.) “Who?”

“He asked about you—”

“Really!?” Reno’s shoulders hunched, and stuffed a fork-full into his mouth. “Uhh, who cares.”

“He asked if I knew ‘the Sector 2 witch, Reno’. I said yes, obviously. He asked if you were doing well.” Her expression was too close to smug for Reno’s comfort. He pretended to not care, continuing to put too much food in his mouth so that he wouldn’t have to respond. “I told him he should come here and ask you himself.”

Reno’s shoulders stiffened, finally swallowing. “I don’t want that rich dickhead showing up at my shop, thank you very much.”

Aerith’s frown was small, but genuine. “Why not?”

“I just don’t like him. Why do you care so much?”

She shrugged, swirling the tip of her breadstick over the sauce that had oozed out of the lasagna. “He just seems really sad, and when I said I knew you…”

Reno’s eyes rose to hers. “Well?”

She shrugged. “Who cares?” She had that look on her face like she knew just how blatantly Reno was lying. _The man protests too much_.

Reno’s hand clenched tightly on his fork, and then put on his best nonchalant expression. “Good point. Tell me about your blonde boy toy, instead.”

It was cold and windy, and Rude was moping.

He’d had a particularly hard day dealing with lower ranking Turks, and spent most of his day correcting paperwork and getting yelled at from impatient Directors about the on-going research mission that had turned up nothing. The sanctity of his home was a welcome one.

He’d fed his soft black cat, Magnus, stripped out of his suit, put on lounging clothes, and threw himself onto his buttery leather couch with a sigh. The window sill was next to the edge of the couch, where he’d placed the small succulent Aerith had conned him into buying as ‘baby’s first house plant’. From this angle he could see out over the street as well. Orange and yellow trees lined the sidewalk, and he could see couples in cute beanies and scarves tugging on each other’s arms, laughing into the wind.

He was lonely as all hell.

Magnus trotted out of the kitchen, his fluffy tail candy-cane shaped as he approached the couch. He gave a soft _murr_ and in one elegant hop landed on Rude’s broad chest. Rude sighed, shutting his eyes and, damnably, saw that thorny witch behind his eyelids. Like he always did.

The one date he had had in _months_ had gone up in flames because he, stupidly, had set it up as some sort of payment for the damn plant. He could have sworn that there had been something there, some interest from the dangerous redhead, but he’d been prickly the entire evening. Rude had doomed the thing from the start, but Reno hadn’t shied away when he’d kissed his hand, at least. Reno and those eyes that held more secrets than the Cetra’s own. He’d seen Aerith in one of those big pointed hats more times than he could count to protect the sensitive cat’s eye that signified a witch; surely, Reno had a hat like that too?

And wouldn’t he be cute as hell?

He blew out at thin stream of air in a sigh. Magnus raised a paw and placed it over his mouth, offended that the man would blow on the cat’s face. Rude opened his eyes and couldn’t help the indulgent smile. “Sorry, Mag,” he murmured, and buried his fingers in the cat’s long silky coat. 

For weeks he had been trying to come up with a reason to return to Reno’s shop, but everything seemed like another reason to flaunt his money in his face. Plus, Reno had just been rather mean to him, flat out, but Rude had to admit that was part of the reason he kept thinking about him. In his line of work, people tended to defer to him or cower. He liked a bit of spunky attitude. Just, maybe not _that_ much.

On his monthly visit to the Cetra witch, he couldn’t help himself, and had asked if she’d known Reno. She did, but was coy, telling him to go to Reno himself, as if he hadn’t been twisting himself in knots trying to come up for a reason to do so.

It did pique his interest that she hadn’t told him _how_ he was doing. Did he think about Rude? Did he even remember he existed?

Rude’s thumbs stroked over his cat’s cheeks, causing the cat to have a very amusing squished face. Perhaps it was time for him to move on. Pursuing someone who wasn’t interested in him wasn’t going to be good for anyone, after all. Magnus purred under his hands. “What do you think, Mag?” he murmured. “Should I join Tinder?”

The cat’s tail whipped back and forth in disapproval, and Rude just laughed, tossing his head back. “Yeah, maybe not yet.”


	4. Strange Apparition

Perhaps it was time for Reno to work his magic.

He was hedging his bets on this whole operation. He’d been kept up at night with listless thinking. His dreams were plagued with soft, quiet grins. He’d had an entire batch of potions turn sour. When he had gone out of his way to upset the Turk, he had a feeling that he had upset some balance in the world. It made him nervous to try anything serious — he hadn’t pricked any blood since, afraid a foray into the darker arts would end up with gods only knew what.

So instead, Reno cased the Shinra HQ for two days. He’d discovered two things. One, the security there bordered on insanity. Troops with those triple-eyed helmets stalked around like they were preparing for an invasion. And two, any old schmuck could walk into the building and attend their visitor levels. Reno had attempted to chat up the receptionist at the main floor, even offering her an attractive ring, but she’d been rudely dismissive. Instead he’d dropped a hundred Gil in front of her and asked if they did tours. _We do_ , she’d said, long fingernails clacking on they keyboard as she printed a custom key pass. _And now you can enjoy that tour, tomorrow._ _Buh-bye now._

Reno, in his large-brimmed, floppy black hat, shouldered his scarlet red bag nervously as he walked up the steep steps to the Shinra building for the third day in a row. This time, he was prepared, though his plan was still hopelessly shallow. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d find, or if the Turk ever wandered through the public floors, but Reno had a good feeling about this day. The second he passed through their doors, he stuffed the hat into his bag, wanting to remain inconspicuous.

Reno discovered that he truly despised escalators just as he finally located what looked like his potential stake-out location. An enormous tree encased in glass loomed over the broad blue room filled with tables and booths. Every wall was filled with little cafeteria spots that looked sparkling clean compared to the bodega next to his own cottage. He bought himself an iced black coffee so as to appear like any regular joe (other than his outrageous clothing choices), and then found a comfortable booth near the tree. He found being that close to it a calming influence, which he dearly needed when he realized just how insane this whole idea was.

He unpacked his bag, covering the table in front of him with a black and purple cloth with a tie-dyed design. He placed down a wide-mouth, mottled jar with glittering letters that read ‘TIPS’. Finally, he set up a tiny cardboard sign that would announce his true purpose. ‘Palm Readings, 250 Gil.’

He took a long sip from the coffee — that he’d spent more on than he was asking for the damn readings, thank you — and began to wait. Surely Turks had to eat, right?

His first customer was a bored middle manager who clearly wanted something to gossip about. Reno indulged her, telling her to spread the word of the charming man offering very good readings in the cafeteria after he told her that she was definitely going to live a long life with prosperity and a dog in her future. He’d _lied_ , but he had to get the locals eating out of his hand, after all.

What surprised Reno was just how little interest the Shinra employees had in him. After the first reading, no one else stopped by. A few did pause as they walked past him, giving him and his little sign a once-over before turning their noses up and walking away. It was… Very annoying.

He had been there since 11 AM and was sucking on the dregs of ice from his second coffee. It was nearing 3 PM. The hope he’d built up had vanished as he’d been passed over by every Shinra employee in the damn building. Maybe, he realized too late, this place was _too_ public. Maybe _stupid_ rich Turks had special diets, with special chefs who prepared special food, with a special mixologist—

Except, there he was across the room.

Rude looked good. Well, that may have been Reno projecting four hours of relief, but he _did_ look well put together in the light of day, a handsome sentinel in a sea of bureaucratic blandness. He had his hands full with a cheap boxed sandwich from the same place Reno had gotten his coffee; the other hand was wrapped around a positively enormous iced drink with two inches of whipped cream at the top and a fat straw sticking out of it. He seemed lost in thought and was rapidly moving towards the elevators.

Reno’s window of opportunity was rapidly closing, so he called out in his best drawl, “Heey! What about a palm reading, handsome?”

Rude stopped in his tracks at what must have been a familiar voice — why else would he stop? — and slowly turned around. Reno turned up the charm, sending him the first honest grin he’d ever given the bald man. “For you, no charge.”

Rude looked as unreadable as ever, but slowly made his way over to Reno’s table. He glanced at the mostly empty tip jar and gave him a sympathetic sigh. “Not a lot of business for you in a place like this, hm?” He put the sandwich and what was definitely some kind of coffee milkshake down, and Reno couldn’t help but notice the little bargain sticker on the sandwich. Or the fact that this giant stoic man clearly had a big sweet tooth, and there were _two_ maraschino cherries nestled in that cream. The barista had been as cold as ice with him, and she just gave this big lug _two_ cherries?

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Reno asked, carefully sliding the price sign off the table with an embarrassed chuckle.

Rude gave him a guarded, but amused look. “Shinra looks down on non-materia based magics.”

“But you?” Reno asked, turquoise eyes leveled on Rude’s sunglasses. Here it wasn’t so bright, and his long pupils drew a little wider.

“It’s saved my ass once or twice,” Rude shrugged.

“So you _do_ want a reading?” Reno asked, the excitement building in his voice. Rude tipped his head to the side just a bit, as though he were considering it, before he stuck out one large gloved hand. Like a peace offering.

Reno rolled his eyes, but there was still a smile curling on his lips. Both his hands, much thinner, came up to grasp Rude’s broad one. “I’ll have to take this off,” he said, fingers sliding over the supple leather.

“Go for it,” Rude murmured. Reno swore he could see the beginnings of a grin on the otherwise placid face, and a warm sense of hope fluttered in his chest.

Reno carefully slid his fingertips up to Rude’s wrist, peeling the glove off with a few easy tugs. Reno had done plenty of readings in his life, but doing one on a man who always covered his hands felt painfully intimate. “You ever had a reading?” he mumbled.

“Not like this,” Rude replied cryptically.

Reno hummed his agreement. “Well, let’s see.” He tilted Rude’s palm back and forth to see the lines more clearly. “Deep life line.” Reno traced his fingertip over the line crossing diagonally over Rude’s palm, watching in interest as Rude’s fingers twitched at the close contact. “But a straight one. You’re reliable, but you don’t trust easy.” Reno’s eyes flickered up at Rude’s face, but the damn sunglasses were in the way.

“You just telling me what I want to hear?” Rude said quietly, and the timbre of his voice made Reno have to make sure his own hands weren’t shaking.

“I am a _professional_ , Mr. Turk,” Reno snapped, and then tugged on Rude’s hand for extra emphasis. “Your life line’s also broken,” he added thoughtfully. “You’ve got an upset coming. Or at least, a big change.” Reno’s thumb slid over the top of his palm, giving a thoughtful murmur. “Your heart line is faint, long. Fractured.” He frowned. “When was the last time you dated somebody?”

Rude simply grunted.

Reno’s eyebrows drew up in sympathy. “Been a while, huh? Did they dump you?”

Rude appeared a little more strained. “We weren’t right for each other.”

“Cheat on you?”

“Getting a little personal, aren’t we, Mr. Professional?” Rude chastised.

“Sorry, sorry,” Reno said, holding Rude’s palm more flat. “Let’s change the subject. Ahh, see, this is more like it. Your sun line. Not very deep, but very clear. You have good taste in art.”

“Think you’re just trying to make up for that personal foul,” Rude said, and Reno actually stopped to look up at him. Rude was smiling at him. It was small, just the corners of his lips, but it was clear.

Rude was _teasing_ him.

Reno flashed his canines at him in a smile. “I’ve only done two palm readings all fucking day, and I can tell you, I only lied to the first one. Everything I’m telling you is all true.”

“Go on, then.”

“So, good taste in art, music. Not a lot of recognition for it, though. You get a lot of accolades at work?”

Rude gave him a wry expression. “That’s confidential.”

“So no,” Reno smirked, thumb dragging over his palm again. “Head line… You’re focused. Creative. Ooh, adventurous, even.”

“You sure this is true?” Rude asked, now fully amused.

“What, you don’t paint exciting, avant garde nudes?”

“Once again,” Rude breathed, fingers curling in a bit. “That’s confidential.”

Reno outright laughed and had to fight the urge he was having to lace his damn fingers through this man’s hand. What was _happening_ to him? And why had he gone out of his way to hate this guy? “We’re almost done. There’s only so much I can learn from a hand.”

“I don’t know, you’ve gotten pretty biographical in the past five minutes,” Rude grumbled.

“Your fate line,” Reno said, “before I was interrupted… Well, no surprise there.” His eyes rose to Rude’s. The man was strangely expressive, even so closed off. He was interested in what Reno had to say. “You’re gonna be stuck here forever.”

Rude sighed. “I want a refund.”

Reno laughed, placed his hand above Rude’s and pretended to sprinkle over his palm. A small puff of silvery glitter landed on Rude’s hand, and Rude stared as it turned into the shape of a snake, coiling once, and then poofed out of existence. “There you go. Everything you paid. A big fat nothing.”

Rude’s cheeks actually colored at the display. “You _are_ good,” he whispered.

“Why don’t you come by the shop some time?” Reno asked, pulling his hand away even as he leaned forward. “Maybe I could sell you a potion to help with that heart line—”

“ _Rude._ ”

The two of them looked up immediately at the sound of Rude’s name being barked across the cafeteria. There was a thin man in an immaculate suit similar to Rude’s, his long black hair drawn back away from his face, his eyebrows drawing down to an irritated point. “You’re _late_. Heidegger is waiting on us and he’ll make us all suffer.”

Rude pulled his hand away and stood up quickly, snatching up his dessert coffee and sandwich. “Gotta run,” he said in an infuriatingly apologetic voice. He rushed over to his boss, bowed deeply, and followed him towards the elevators.

Reno snatched up his glove, holding it up. To his luck, Rude turned over his shoulder to look at Reno, and he mouthed, ‘Keep it for me!’ He swore he could see his boss — was that Tseng? — say something to Rude and Rude’s ears turned red before they disappeared into the elevator. Reno curled his hands around the glove with a shuddery sigh.

“Hey, you doing palm readings?” a voice asked, and Reno looked up to see a small line of businessmen who had definitely been watching Reno intimately touch the Turk’s hand. The man at the beginning of the line had a finely trimmed brown beard and the face of a man who was too sweet to work at Shinra.

“Buzz off!” Reno snapped, shoving his cloth and jar into his bag. “I’m closed!” He hurried away, lingering only long enough to hear: “Maybe next time, Reeve.”


	5. Square One

When Reno headed home from Shinra HQ, he fully expected Rude to wander in around closing time. Surely the man couldn’t operate with only one glove? Reno had had his shop closed for the day for his little palm reading adventure, and didn’t mind leaving it closed as he focused on cleaning up his own apartment. You know, just _in case_.

Rude didn’t show.

Reno had slept fitfully, not sure what he’d done wrong again. The last time he’d been a total asshole and had, surprising no one, pushed the big Turk away. This time he had turned up the charm to eleven, though he had been awfully invasive about the man’s personal life. But it had been in his own self interests, after all. Reno needed to know if the guy had been secretly married all this time!

Rude didn’t return the day after that, or the day after that. Reno had all but given up hope, and instead was focused on packing up an enormous basket in the back of his shop.

It was the fourth day after his HQ visit and he was fitfully packing when he heard a sharp knock at his locked front door. He ignored it until there was another knock, and he called: “We’re closed today!”

There was a long pause, and then a muffled, but familiar voice: “I’m ah, here for a glove.”

Reno tripped over his own feet trying to get to the door. He pulled open the latch and yanked the door open in accidental over-eagerness. The sunlamps were full and bright, causing his sensitive pupils to draw tightly inwards. He had his enormous basket thrown over his shoulder, and he was looking a little over-encumbered. He took a step back. “Welcome back, Mr. Turk,” he said, trying to tease but still sounding a little breathless.

“You… Going somewhere?” Rude asked as he ducked into the shop. Reno dropped the basket on the floor and then dashed into the back of his shop.

“Yeah, actually!” Reno shouted, voice carrying easily out to where Rude took his time looking at all the odd trinkets displayed in the shop. “Lemme just find your other… ah!”

Rude listened to the man drop what sounded like a stack of metal trays, scrape a chair across the floor, and then finally emerge wearing an enormous witch’s hat. He was holding up Rude’s glove in triumph. Rude’s mouth softened into almost a smile at his first sight of the man in the goofy mage’s hat.

“Did you drive here?” Reno asked, turning to lock his back door.

Rude gave an affirmative grunt, having to look away from the lithe young man, a dangerous specimen if there ever was one, before his expression grew any more fond.

“I wanted to say,” Rude began, staring at the dust motes floating in the air and wondered if they were magical, too. “Sorry it took so long to get out here. A Turk’s work is ever present.”

“Do you uh… Wanna make it up to me?” Reno asked as he turned back around. He gave his best kitty cat eyes and noticed that Rude _really_ didn’t want to look at him when he did that. “Though it’s… It’s kind of an all-day ask.”

Rude did look at him then, and Reno could see the man’s mouth turn up like he was indulging a cute animal. “As long as it’s not 10,000 Gil again,” Rude said dryly.

“I need a ride out to Kalm Town,” Reno said, leaning down to pick up the basket.

Rude seemed a little taken aback. “That _is_ a bit of a drive, but. Why not.” He shrugged, another sign of quiet affirmation.

“Really? What about your ‘Turk’s Work’?”

“They’ll get by,” Rude said. “Can I carry that for you?”

Reno stuck his nose in the air and pushed past him to walk out the front door. “Not on your life.”

Rude grinned at him then, teeth visible and everything, and followed him out.

It turned out, Rude had a lot to learn about mushrooms.

The forests just outside of Kalm Town were airy and open, the leaves slowly curling on old branches. Reno squatted next to every fallen log, tall weed outcropping, and particularly exciting looking stump to gather mushrooms of many sizes, shapes and colors. He’d pulled on delicate black gloves that, Rude swore, when the sunlight hit them in a certain way, they glimmered.

“…and vampire’s tongue is my favorite. Makes for a particularly mean poison. But it also looks very close to the juicy heart mushroom, which cooks up real nice with pahsana greens…”

Rude had followed Reno’s directions, veering away from Kalm Town at the last moment to test his expensive sedan’s shocks as they moved over a well-worn dirt road. Reno had tucked his hat, bent at the tip, over his head, thrown open the door, and descended into the yellowing trees with the kind of enthusiasm Rude normally only saw from salarymen escaping their work for the day. Reno had designated Rude his basket mover, and so as Reno picked to his heart’s content and then frog-walked to another location, Rude would pick up the incrementally heavier basket and bring it along with him.

Rude had barely had to involve himself in the conversation, just acknowledging that he was taking in the firehose of information as Reno rattled off factoids and told corny fungus jokes. Those were his favorite, since every time Reno would look up at him slyly under that wide-brimmed hat and look like a smug cat, and Rude would indulge in a soft chuckle. He thought he saw Reno blush at _least_ once in response to that.

After almost an hour, Reno stretched his legs and arms with a mighty groan. “Well, at least part one is done! Can you lug that thing back to the car?”

“…Part one?” Rude asked, easily hefting the basket over his shoulder, though it caused him to sag a bit to his right.

“Kalm Town also has an apple orchard,” Reno said then, putting his hands on his hips. The late morning sun was glittering around him in away that Rude found infuriating. How was this man even real? “And a big squash market I need to hit up…”

Rude had to turn away from him, though his smirk was audible as he stepped over crunchy leaves back to the car. “How in the hell would you have gotten all this done without your free taxi?”

“Honestly?” Reno caught up to him easily, peeling his gloves off his fingers and checking every delicate ring to make sure nothing had gone missing. “These trips are hell on me normally. I usually spend a couple thousand Gil on chocobo station wagon rentals, have to spend the night in an Inn at Kalm Town…” He spread his hands. “If we hadn’t started off on the wrong foot, I’d say I’d owe you an enormous favor for all this, but…”

Rude let out a chuff of a laugh. “Are we finally going to be _squaresies_ , then?”

Reno may have cackled at that. (He definitely did.) “Yeah, you got it, pal. Fair n’ square. Even stevens. Perfectly balanced—”

Rude just rolled his eyes and let Reno prattle on. He was rapidly becoming very fond of this witch’s nasal voice.

He tucked the basket into the back seat of his car and breathed out in relief as he slid back into the driver’s seat. Without the fog of mako, the natural sunlight was much more intense than he was used to. When Reno slid into the passenger seat, he caught him rubbing his temples.

“You okay?” Reno asked tentatively. “Am I annoying you to headache territory?”

A soft grin found its way onto Rude’s face again. “It’s not you. I deal with a lot of… Light sensitivity.”

Reno gasped, “Ohh! The _glasses_. That’s a much less douchey reason than trying to look like a super shady guy on purpose. Though, I could definitely recommend a mage’s hat.”

Rude started the ignition with a laugh. “You look cute in a hat. Me? Not so much.”

Reno folded his arms with an insufferable smirk. “You think I’m cute, huh?”

“Where’s this orchard, again?” Rude bulldozed over that line of conversation, and Reno just laughed and gave him the directions. The car ride was a welcome reprieve, the windows tinted and the air conditioned to a cool autumnal temperature. When the fencing of the orchard came into view, Reno slapped his palms on the glove compartment in excitement.

“Please tell me you’re not going to make me go apple picking, Witch Boy.”

“You’re no fun, Suit,” Reno said and stuck out his tongue. Rude glanced away with a blush.

“It’s just that it’ll be another two hour drive back, and—”

“No, no. No apple picking. But I have a couple crates I need to pick up.”

Rude pulled to a stop in front of the farm house, nearly choking. “ _Crates?_ ”

True to his word, Reno slapped his hands on the trunk of the car when he came wheeling out of the barn near the house, two square slatted crates on a dolly. Bright red and golden fruits glistened from within. Rude popped the trunk and quickly made his way to the back of the car, hip-checking Reno so that he could place them inside.

“Hey!” Reno laughed, but let the other man shoulder in for a bit of heavy lifting. Reno could only regret that he wouldn’t be able to see a muscle bulge within his well tailored suit jacket. “Here, hang on, don’t close that.” Rude stepped back, handing the dolly off to a rosy-cheeked apple picker, and watched as Reno popped open one crate to pull out two apples. Reno tossed it at him, and Rude caught it in both hands: acting extra cautious for a perfectly ripe fruit was a perfectly legitimate response.

“You sure? Don’t these cost an arm and a leg?” Rude asked softly. His mouth watered at the sight of it.

“Yeah, unless you buy two crates,” Reno said slyly, punching Rude in the arm and then climbing back into the car.

Rude was grateful that Reno had gone, leaving him alone to take that first bite without an audience. He let out a soft sound of pleasure at the crisp texture and sweet-but-tart taste, an impossible to replicate delight. Most of Midgar’s crops were grown in vast greenhouses with artificial lighting and materia-based fertilization, which led towards large yields of mostly bland fruits and vegetables. Getting an imported treat like this wasn’t something he indulged in. It was so good, he thought, maybe he should.

He nearly dropped the apple when his car honked. He quickly stomped towards the driver’s seat, where Reno was half-leaning, his palm on the seat with a grin. “C’mon, we still gotta hit up Kalm!” he was saying, and all the irritation left Rude in a rush as he slid back into the car. Reno settled in place. “Then you can get rid of me, I swear.”

Rude stuck the apple in his mouth to turn the car back on and get out on the main road. Settled into gear, he was free to eat it with his free hand, and it was gone faster than was strictly polite.

“That good, huh?” Reno teased.

“Don’t get a lot of real fruit in Midgar,” Rude said with a shrug. Then he threw the apple core out the window, not willing to let the sticky remnants get on the inside of his car. Besides, it was natural. Some ants would love it, or something. “Why do you need squash, anyway?”

“Half because I like a good roast pumpkin or acorn,” Reno said, shrugging, “but the other half is for spiritual protection.” He seemed to leave it at that, and Rude wasn’t sure he had any more questions.

It was only another ten minutes to Kalm Town, where Reno managed to pull out _another_ enormous basket that Rude had definitely not seen before. Reno dragged the Turk with him into a small market area that had a robust clove and cinnamon sugar scent settling over stands. Reno began to loudly haggle with an old crone, and Rude found himself leaving the man to follow his nose.

He found the sweet smell coming out of a small setup: just a table covered with paper bags that were warm with small grease stains. Behind it was a young woman trying to cage in a wriggling toddler, and she looked up at Rude with a look of embarrassed surprise. “Oh! Sorry darlin’, lemme—alright! Fine. Go. Just keep your shoes on!” The child confidently took off at a sprint, directly under the table and running into one of Rude’s legs.

The kid clung to him, and Rude felt a blush light up his face. He hadn’t dealt with a lot of kids, outside of dealing with Aerith as a young girl, but this kid was much younger and much… softer. Rude wasn’t _afraid_ of children, but he was certainly afraid of putting them in danger. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t in danger, he was on an errand-run with a _witch_ and he came over here because— “Ah, hi,” he said, clearing his throat. “What are these?”

“Shiva, I’m sorry,” the woman said, laughing. “He’s been rowdy all day. These are just candied nuts, fresh and warm. Hundred Gil a bag.”

“Can I…?” Rude asked, reaching towards the little tray in the center. She just gave an eager smile for him to pick up a glazed nut, covered in nooks and crannies, and tossed it into his mouth.

Oh. He was gettin’ those.

He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a thousand Gil note; he placed it on the table as he picked up two fat paper bags. They _were_ still warm in his hands. He was going to absolutely die of heart failure later, and they were going to find his corpse with sticky cinnamon sugar all over his gloved hands and mouth with the empty bag clutched close.

Worth it, though.

“Let me just get your change,” she said.

He shook his head. “No, keep the change. You’re undercharging for these, ma’am.”

“That’s very kind of you, but honestly, I couldn’t—”

Rude placed the bags back down on the table and then carefully picked up the toddler, who was strangely quiet in his grasp and staring at him with giant wet eyes. The child stared at him for just a little too long without Rude smiling back, and the beginning of tears started to build. “I insist!” Rude said suddenly, and handed the child off to the woman who immediately knew how to calm him down. He grabbed the nuts and didn’t _quite_ sprint out of there, but he figured that display was reason enough to leave a big tip.

Rude exhaled with relief as he rounded the corner, and nearly lost his nuts as he bumped into a devilishly smirking Reno.

“Embarrassing.”

Rude shoved one of the bags into Reno’s hands. “I bought you my nuts,” he said quickly.

“ _What?_ ”

“I mean,” Rude coughed, that humiliated blush from before not going away any time soon, now. “I bought some nuts. But you should. Have some. So those are yours.”

Reno slowly lifted an eyebrow at him, and Rude felt the heavy judgement so he looked away. Reno just opened the bag with a tiny smile. “You _are_ cute,” he said and popped one in his mouth. “Oh, damn! These are good!”

“Can we go get your pumpkins or whatever and get out of here?”

“Before that lady chases you down with your change?”

Rude gave him a pleading look, and Reno just laughed and turned around. “C’mon, I need your help. I got like a hundred pounds of acorn squash and pumpkins.”

“You _what_?”  
  
  


Art commissioned by me, by the illustrious @[rumakukka](https://twitter.com/rumakukka),  
AKA Seninni!


	6. Soldier Jane

The hours had been getting longer for Rude at work. As the days grew colder, the sightings that had been plaguing Administrative Research for weeks were blowing up. The first time someone had insisted ‘a ghost broke my wall!’, it wasn’t considered anything worth looking into, considering the amount of monsters and drug addicts who could break walls and then vanish into the night was enormous. That had been early September.

Then there was a second, a third, a twelfth, a thirtieth, and suddenly the Turks were looking into sightings all throughout the city. Mainly under the plate, there were reports of shambling, shimmering monsters that would destroy property and hurt people. In the light of day, they were never to be found, but as night came, more and more seemed to pop out of the concrete rubble to harass the already unfortunate residents.

The Turks were running into dead end after dead end; long night patrols ending only in the possibility of a sighting, and occasionally a fight, but never any solution. Rude was growing desperate, not only with the frustration that they weren’t making progress, but also with how it had been keeping him out of the Sector 2 witch’s shop.

He finally made time one brisk October afternoon, insisting to Tseng that he had a lead he wanted to check out. Tseng was buried behind stacks of manila folders, and had essentially given him a dismissive wave of approval as Rude skittered free of Shinra HQ.

Rude had expected to see the shop decked out with carved gourds and extra spooky candles, as was the usual tradition for witches in Autumn; but instead he only saw small mob and several pumpkin guts-covered baseball bats, the remains smeared on the cheery steps of the store. More worryingly, one held a literal torch, its flame billowing on the rag-soaked tip of another bat. Rude felt a sharp shock of rage pierce his chest as he made his way over to the group.

“What’s going on here?” he boomed.

A few members of the mob turned around, faces angry and desperate. “We’re solvin’ the _ghost problem_!” one yelled. “We know it’s the witch who’s doing it!”

“Yeah!” another called. “We’ve seen ‘em leaving the shop in the night before they attack us!”

“The witch cast a spell on Mavis!”

“I saw the witch raise a body from the dead!”

“He’s the reason for all our suffering! We know it! We saw it!”

Rude stared at the shop, eyes flickering to one window. There, he could see Reno pulling back one of the curtains, his face a disconcerting mixture of annoyance and genuine worry. Rude’s fist clenched.

“All of you, get out of here. You know damn well he didn’t do any of that,” Rude said, pushing one of the men wielding a pumpkin-burster aside.

The man holding the torch, the presumed leader, stepped up to Rude with courage in his eyes. “We know it was him. There’s no other explanation. So we’re going to burn him out,” he said, staring into Rude’s sunglasses and seeing the flame reflected back at him.

Rude lost his temper, just for a moment, at the sight of this pompous man casually admitting their every intention to burn a man to death. So Rude did what came naturally to him, which was to grab the arm holding that torch, and break it in one swift _crunch_.

The man howled out in shock and the rest of the mob stared in horror, bats slowly lowering. “If any one of you returns to this shop, the Turks will hear about it.” He dropped his grip on the man’s arm, and he fell curled on the ground. “And I don’t think any of you want that, do you?”

There was a tense moment where everyone seemed frozen in time, and then they were reaching for their fallen colleague and scattering like so many roaches. Rude kicked dirt and rocks over the still-smoldering bat until its flame died out. He straightened his jacket, pulled his gloves tighter, and then pushed up his sunglasses.

A little more than he probably needed to do, but it wasn’t his fault. He’d had a short fuse the past few weeks.

He walked up to the cottage door and knocked softly. The door opened only slightly, with an unimpressed Reno staring out at him. “Hey,” Rude said, and Reno pulled the door open all the way to let him in. Rude closed the door behind him, gazing with concern at Reno. “You okay?”

Reno moved back over to the window, drawing the curtain closed. In the soft light of the shop, Rude could see the black iridescent form of a snake curled around Reno’s wrist and arm. He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, though he sounded more flustered than he looked. “Thanks.”

Rude stepped up to him, hand twitching a bit with the desire to reach out for him. “If anyone else bothers you…”

Reno turned away from him then. “I can take care of myself.”

“But you don’t have to,” Rude argued quietly.

“Does your boss know about this?”

“Not on his life,” Rude laughed. Reno then turned, his eyes landing a slow, appraising look up and down Rude’s body. Then he let out a long nervous breath. Rude’s lips turned up just a bit in the apparent victory. “So,” Rude said, all charm in an effort to distract Reno from the scenario of a literal mob attempting to burn down his home mere moments before, “who’s this?”

Rude’s gloved hand reached forward towards Reno’s wrist. The fat snake had unusually expressive eyes, and Rude could feel the weight of her gaze. Reno nearly moved his hand, in order to keep Rude safe from a potential strike, but instead the snake slowly unwrapped herself to hover her nose close to Rude’s gloves. Her thin tongue flicked out several times, and then she was actually slithering onto Rude’s glove and attempting to nuzzle her way up his jacket sleeve.

“Oh—that’s not,” Rude said, a panicked flurry in his voice, but the snake didn’t succeed at the sleeve. Instead, she coiled her way up the outside of the jacket until she could sniff around his neck, and then slide down into his jacket. The entire time, Rude remained frozen, unsure of how to proceed.

“Traitor,” Reno hummed with a grin as the snake settled awkwardly next to Rude’s pocket square, the pocket itself bulging uncomfortably, both the snake’s head and tail sticking out.

“That’s her name?”

“It’s Velvet. Or Pocket. Right now she’s a little Hot Pocket, aren’t you, you weird little noodle,” Reno said, reaching out to stroke the snake softly on the flat of its cartoonishly wide head.

“Why a traitor?” Rude asked, slowly relaxing as he saw that Velvet seemed completely content to just hang out in his jacket.

“Never,” Reno began, and headed back towards the counter of his shop, “has she liked another person. Until now.” He sounded vaguely disgusted.

Rude, however, sounded quite pleased as he followed him. “Guess I _also_ have a way with animals,” he said triumphantly.

“Still a plant killer.”

“Don’t think Pocket here cares,” Rude said, and then only barely restrained a tiny sound of surprise as Velvet slithered up around Rude’s neck and hung around him.

Like a damn scarf, Reno thought, and felt his cheeks start to darken. He looked good. Natural. It was annoying. And cute. He turned away again.

“Believe it or not, I came here for a reason,” Rude said, and watched Reno move around behind the counter. “Unfortunately, that little mob is going to make me look like an asshole.”

Reno glanced up at him with a curious eye. “You want to know if I actually did have something to do with all the ghoul attacks.”

“I—yes. Wait, ghouls?”

Reno pointed at him with a pen that had an enormous fake flower taped to the end. “I don’t fuck with the dead, Suit,” Reno said, and then put the theft-proof pen back down. “I make poisons so I can fuck _with the living_.”

Rude’s mouth worked, and a strange warmth hit his belly at the honesty. He found Reno to be charming, talented and gorgeous, but he had to admit, sometimes he was a nasty piece of work, and that cemented it. Velvet’s tongue tickled the rings at his ear and he had to keep his jaw solid instead of squealing. He _felt_ like squealing.

“I was wondering,” Rude said then, seeming satisfied with the answer, “if I could take you somewhere private to talk about this.”

Reno looked at him fully this time, lifting one cynical eyebrow as he spread his hands all around him at the empty shop. Rude cleared his throat. “Somewhere we could get a hot drink. And talk.”

Reno nearly told him he could make him a damn tea if he really wanted it, before he realized what was actually happening. Rude was asking him out, _again_ , though now under a new pretense of ‘ghouls’. He’d just seen the man break another man’s arm with simple ease, but asking him out in a straight forward manner?

This damn man got cuter every time, and it was infuriating.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Reno agreed. “Give me that traitor.”

Rude wasn’t sure how to handle the snake, and so instead he just leaned forward enough for Reno to lightly pluck Velvet off of his shoulders, his thin fingers only barely sliding over Rude’s muscular neck. “Do you have a favorite place?” Rude asked.

Reno felt a bit of wonder at that; he’d immediately assumed Rude would just take him back up to the plate. “Yeah,” he admitted, and couldn’t help noticing how Velvet was radiating warmth — and Rude’s cologne. He swayed a bit. “But it’s clear in Sector 7.”

Rude simply pulled out his keys, shaking them with promise.

Reno rolled his eyes and disappeared as he took Velvet back up to her preferred terrarium. When he appeared again, he put his hands on his hips in an attempt to sway him further. “It’ll take a long time to navigate the outer roads to get there,” he said.

Rude shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to entertain me ‘til then.”

Reno smirked and slowly tucked his hat onto his head, the brim casting a shadow over the upper part of his face. “Can’t talk in private in your car?” he asked as the two of them left the shop.

“A Shinra vehicle is never private,” Rude admonished, and Reno could see the truth in that.

The proprietor of the Seventh Heaven Coffee Bar & Bar Bar was a knockout. It seemed inappropriate for that thought to be the first thing to pop into Rude’s head as he and his companion strolled through the shoddy door of the place. Instead he should have been amazed at how warm and soft everything felt inside, so different from the common slums exterior. It was sharp change from what Rude was used to with both Aerith and Reno; their shops were both noticeably magical. Aerith’s soft pink cottage was so covered in plant life it was always a surprise for Rude to find it standing every time he went back out to check on her. And of course, Reno’s had a certain occultish flavor that oozed a calling mystique: “Don’t you want to know what’s inside?” hissed tantalizingly in your ear.

This place looked as dreary as every three-materia shop in this neck of the woods, but inside there were leather-capped barstools and big broad benches that seemed overstuffed rather than so thin you could only feel wooden slats under your ass. Garlands of plastic decor strung around the outside walls with green and red apples, the kind of decorations that were popular five or six years prior but had been lovingly kept safe in between holiday seasons for just as long. A noisy pinball machine jingled with excitement against one wall.

It reeked of cozy kitsch in a way that would have had anyone else taken up by the ambience. Unfortunately all Rude could see was the strong muscular arms and glowing red eyes of a witch behind the counter, extravagantly pouring coffee between two cups. Her cat eyes rose to meet his and Rude felt, for the first time, a silence on his person that was not his own doing.

He wasn’t sure if she had cast a literal spell on him, or if she was such an eye full that he’d just swallowed his tongue on his own. He bumped into Reno, who stood planted in front of him with his hands on his hips.

Rude startled, looking down at Reno and seeing the man turn his head over his shoulder at Rude, sticking his tongue out.

“Jeez, how subtle can you get?” Reno teased, though there was a tinge of irritation in his voice.

Rude glanced back up at the barista-slash-bartender and saw that she was not even looking in his general direction. She was serving another customer, doing a similar move that Reno had done for him in the cafeteria. Her fingers sprinkled above the coffee she was passing off, and a tiny plume of magic shot out of the sweetened coffee. The young man who ordered it looked quite eager as he made his way back to his seat, rosy-cheeked.

Rude cleared his throat. “Sorry. This place just looks so different from the outside,” he said in an attempt to recover.

“Uh-huh. I’ll order for you so I don’t have to watch you strike out miserably in front of me,” Reno said.

Rude made a sound of betrayal, and then just let his shoulders fall in defeat. “Just… Get me something seasonal.”

“You basic?” Reno asked carefully.

“I… Maybe?” Rude said, spreading his hands.

“Pumpkin spice,” Reno said knowingly, and then walked up to the till, leaning against the counter to order.

Rude sat down in embarrassment, purposely not looking in the direction of the witches. He should have known if he’d started hanging out with one, it turned out they all knew each other. He sighed even as the thought passed in and out of his mind, resting his forehead on his palm. _Not cool to generalize, Rude,_ he thought, embarrassed by his own brain.

He saw Reno’s booted feet before he heard him. “That bad, huh?”

Rude tried to keep his cool as he sat up straight, though he was fiddling with his gloves afterward. “Still angry about idiots trying to burn your place down.” _Nice save._

It _was_ a good save, since Reno’s eyes softened dramatically at that. He sat down across from him, setting his hat on the side of the table. “Always happens, especially around this time of year. Though I’ve never had them bring a torch. Smashing my jack-o-lanterns, sure.”

“How do you stand it?” Rude asked quietly.

Reno just shrugged. “I’m made of tougher stuff. Like I said. Though it was kinda fun to watch you put the fear of Hades into ‘em.” Reno’s eyes narrowed in amusement. “It looked like you snapped that guy’s arm like a twig.”

Rude cleared his throat. “I did.”

“Damn, papi,” Reno teased, and watched as the tips of Rude’s ears turned dark red.

Thankfully Rude didn’t have to follow that train of thought as an enormous man in a khaki vest, prosthetic arm, and an absolutely gawdy orange-and-black pumpkin-themed apron approached. “Pumpkin spice latte,” he boomed, placing the wide-mouthed red mug in front of him. “And a poison apple macchiato,” he continued, setting down the clear glass in front of Reno.

Rude swore that the little latte art in his — a little cat’s face — winked at him; meanwhile, Reno’s was a glass full of ice and lined in caramel swirl. The drink itself was a terrifying shade of neon green, despite it _probably_ being coffee.

“These look incredible,” Rude said in surprise.

“Course they do!” their coffee courier said, a broad grin on his face. “My wifey makes the best enchanted drinks in the whole damn city.”

“Thanks, Barret,” Reno said, and Barret gave him a thumbs up before heading back behind the counter and into the back. Reno’s drink had a tacky swirly straw in the shape of a witch’s hat sticking out of it.

“This place is ridiculous,” Rude murmured.

Reno laughed again. “Hey, you told me to take you to my favorite place—”

“It’s not _bad_ ,” Rude backpedaled, his shoulders bunching up at his ears. “It’s just hard to believe places like this exist, ah…”

“Under the plate?” Reno finished.

Rude sighed as he picked up his latte, nodding softly before he took a delicate sip.

Oh _man_. Hanging out with Reno was going to bankrupt him with all these _treats_.

“So,” Reno said helpfully as he stirred with the straw like a swizzle stick. “Ghouls.”

“We’ve known about them for a month,” Rude said, his voice hushed. He was finally able to look at Reno, even if it was through the sunglasses. “The… Administrative Research department, I mean.”

“The Murder Squad, got it.”

Rude chuffed a bit. “The first sighting we heard of we assumed it was some guy hopped up on drugs. But then we heard more and more, and had a few pieces of evidence spread on social media…” He shrugged. “We’ve been trying to find out their origin, or anything else. They only come out at night, so we assumed they were living in a cave system or something.”

“You don’t think it’s real, live, actual undead?” Reno asked, lifting an eyebrow. It was clear on his face that Reno thought that’s what it was.

“I… I suppose that could be the case,” Rude murmured.

“You sure Shinra’s not to blame?” Reno’s questions were growing more pointed, but Rude couldn’t help but enjoy the conversation. The spicy, sweet drink was making him feel warmed up, and the company was real good on the eyes. “You know their power source is _literally_ souls.”

“I…” Rude paused. He was genuinely caught off guard by the assumption, to the point where he had to look back down at his magic coffee. Despite drinking half of it down, the latte art was still visible, as if it reformed after each foamy sip. “God, I hope not,” he finished lamely.

“Why? Can’t you just blow up the reactors?” Reno chuckled, slurping on his weird green drink with delight.

Rude nearly spat out his drink. He placed the mug carefully back on the table. “Three things,” Rude began. “One, are you _nuts?_ Two, the entire city would die without power, and three?” Rude slumped back in his seat a bit. “They’d kill me. Hell, even if I just wanted to quit. Nobody quits the Turks.”

Reno went quiet for a moment. “That’s sad.”

“It’s the price we pay. And… It’s fine.” Rude stared somberly into his drink. The cat winked at him, again. “For what we do… For what I’ve done, I don’t really deserve to be free of it.” He allowed himself to take a long drink again, and found it soothing to his frayed nerves.

Reno was staring at him like he’d grown another head, but Rude just shrugged self deprecatingly.

“That’s bullshit, though,” Reno yelled, and then shrank his voice self consciously. “Anybody can be redeemed. I’m proof of that.”

For the first time, that got an intrigued look out of Rude. One finely-shaped eyebrow arched up above his shades, and Reno bit his lip without realizing it. “What happened to you?” Rude asked.

Reno shrugged. “When you’re young and your eyes get opened to the world of magic, you feel pretty unstoppable. And you wanna find out what you can do to be… More powerful.” His eyes lowered to his drink, though both his hands dropped to the table, picking at his nails. “I hurt somebody I cared about, a whole lot, and had to…” He shook his head. “I really went off the deep end. Remember how I told you I don’t fuck with the dead? Well, I used to.”

Rude leaned forward with interest.

“Anyway, the person I hurt basically… Basically sacrificed himself when I went too far. He kept my soul safe. And after that, I spent the rest of my years honing my skills in potion making, poisons, some alchemy. Necromancy is way outside my wheelhouse. And this ghoul stuff? I mean, I’m flattered the local yokels think I’m powerful enough, but.” Reno let out a long shaky breath, and then sucked at his drink until the sound of an empty straw echoed between them.

“You’re a lot more powerful than you let on,” Rude said then, head tipping to the side. “But you’re humble about it.”

“You trying to give me a reading this time, Suit?” Reno laughed weakly.

“You’re far too complicated for me to figure out so easily,” Rude said suavely. His sunglasses fell for just a moment down the bridge of his nose, and Reno caught sight of those soft brown eyes before Rude winked at him, and then pushed the shades back up.

Reno’s cheeks went pink.

“So, besides the possibility of the reactors ripping apart the fabric of reality and letting the dead roam the streets,” Rude said, as though the concept were outrageous, “any other leads on where the ghouls came from?”

Reno’s laugh turned more authentic, his elbow resting on the table and chin falling into his palm as he gazed across the table at Rude. “I dunno. Maybe there’s a dark wizard in a tower conjuring them up to spite Shinra.”

Rude lifted that eyebrow again, and Reno was starting to hate that expression because it consistently disarmed him. “You know any dark wizards, Witch?”

Reno’s eyes grew mischievous, and then scooted back from his chair and placed his hat on his head. “Let’s save that for our next date. I gotta get home and carve more damn pumpkins before the sun lamps turn off.”

Rude stared up at him in surprise. He quickly swigged down the last of his pumpkin-enhanced coffee. “Gladly,” he said, and followed Reno’s sashaying footsteps out of the bar.


	7. Think I'm In Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reno runs into some trouble, and his savior's only a little tipsy.

Reno did not like to go above plate.

He grew up in the slums, like most of his closest acquaintances. He felt familiar and comfortable with the strange, mechanical and dirty wonder of life under the plate. His “magic wand” — an electrified magnetic rod that he had gotten from his witching mentor — could get him out of most situations with monsters. He carried poisons, and could usually use a glamouring ward if there was something particularly dangerous.

Yet above the plate, he felt a yawning discomfort crush into him every time he walked the streets lined with artificially fertilized trees. The last time he had even been up there had been with Rude on their disastrous ‘business proposition meeting’. He refused to think of it as a date in his mind, since it left such a sour taste in his mouth (other than the knowledge that Rude’s cat got lobster that night, which was still a fact that left him completely smitten).

He had been so full of anxiety about the meeting he hadn’t had the chance to feel unsafe. (Or, it could have been that overarching feeling of protection Rude seemed to offer, but that was ridiculous.)

Reno had one friend above plate: a retired witch. Marle had been a definitive help as he’d matured with his magic practice. The loss of his own mentor — the man who’d sacrificed himself to save Reno when he’d gotten too deep — had left him drifting until Marle seemed to appear out of nowhere, her hair as stiff and broad as a broomstick.

She’d taken him in and taught him the real fundamentals. She got him his first cauldron, for Shiva’s sake; helped him stir up his first Potion and his first Poison. And now she was old, much older than she let on, and Reno wanted to make sure she was not forgotten.

She had done well for herself under the plate, creating a booming business that allowed her to escape when she’d decided she was done selling charms (or casting curses). Her home in Sector 4 was quaint and small and behind a very tall stone-brick fence. Reno remembered the tale of her fighting with Shinra bureaucrats for the rights to build something that didn’t go along with the approved Shinra aesthetics.

“I had to go all the way up!” she’d laughed, shaking her fist. “But that urban planning director was a real softie when he realized what chaos he’d unleashed with _me_ coming through that door.”

Reno brought with him his usual enormous basket, this time full of a variety of goodies: mainly poisons he wanted to get feedback on, but a few charms he’d wanted to pass off, and a container of cookies he had spent an indecent amount of time trying to get perfect.

Marle had eaten his cookies with gusto, pointed out why two of the poisons had the wrong color, and had dragged him back into her ‘closet’ (the second bedroom in the house) so she could show him where she’d hang up the charms above a warded tapestry and crystal setup. Then she’d pinched his cheeks and ruffled his hair and told him she was unbearably proud of him, and he’d had to swat at her to turn away. “Get off of me, you old crone!” he’d said with a laugh even as his eyes bubbled with tears.

Then, with his basket empty and his magrod tucked away into it, he left her for the evening, though it was already late into the night. Above plate, the skies darkened naturally, though they seemed flatter with no flashing lights, no distinctive signs that there was anything _there_. When he stayed in Kalm Town at night, he could look up at the stars and feel peace. Here, he only felt an unsettling flavor of limbo.

He started the long trek back towards the train station. The chill of wind whipped around him, crunchy brown leaves rustling by his feet. The street lamps flickered, and the cold that he felt was not entirely natural.

He cursed, knowing that he shouldn’t have stayed out as late when there had been profoundly supernatural things occurring. He’d put on a few extra charms, but he’d been confident he would get home before it grew dark. Marle always kept him later and he enjoyed every minute of it until he had to leave.

He heard something behind him. It could have been a drunk walking home, or the creak of a tree, but Reno didn’t care. He sprinted, cursing himself _again_ for wearing boots with a damn heel on them. Of course they made his legs look great, but did that matter if he was _dead_?

He stole a glance over his shoulder and felt his blood run cold at the sight of three shimmering ghouls chasing after him, their speed increasing to catch up to him. He let an angry whimper fall out of his mouth. _Not like this_ , he thought, and reached into his basket for the EMR.

He stopped, whipping the basket around. It knocked into the trio, causing them to stumble. Reno’s left hand flew out to the side, his rod telescoping outward and sparking with electricity. He could take on some basic monsters, surely.

Unfortunately he did not expect the blast of cold that came out of one’s mouth, knocking him back until he fell. The three descended on him, their icy hands groping at his legs and arms, and he felt very _tired_. He fought back as hard as he could, swinging the magrod so that, when it hit the closest one properly on the head, an arc of electricity jumped from head to head, slowing their attacks. He swung again and again, but still he grew colder and colder, until he could barely keep his eyes open.

And then he heard the shuffling of feet on pavement, the crack of fists against shattered ice, and the booming rush of a wall of flames.

Reno forced his eyes open, hazily pushing himself up to his elbows. He saw the ghouls — what remained of them — stacked near his collapsed form, and, to his disbelief, his savior stood nearby, staring at him with an equally surprised expression.

“Reno!?” Rude said, his voice a shade sloppy, as though he’d been drinking. His suit was sparkling with the remnants of ice magic.

“Rude,” Reno croaked, and fell back onto the pavement.

Rude nearly tripped over himself to get to Reno’s side, dropping to his knees with a heavy thump. Reno struggled to keep his eyes open at first. All he could feel was a sharp pain in his limbs and then pins and needles, as though his body was attempting to wake up after sleeping on it wrong. Then warmth seeped into his hands and arms and back, and when Reno opened his eyes again, Rude was cradling him in his arms, his leather-clad hands wrapped around Reno’s thin cold ones.

Rude was _extraordinarily_ warm.

“What the hell are you doin’ up here in the middle of the night?” Rude asked, and then quickly, “Sorry, not tryin’ to accuse you. Are you hurt? Can you stand up?”

“Slow down, there, pal,” Reno chuckled, though his throat still felt like cracked sugar. His eyes finally locked in on Rude, whose sunglasses had been broken in the tussle, showing one eye. “What are _you_ doing out here?”

“Can a man enjoy an adult beverage in a dive bar?” Rude asked, and then laughed in a pained kind of way. The sound of it alone made Reno laugh as well, though he coughed as his lungs seized up on him. “Shit. I’m— We’re close to home,” Rude said, and suddenly Reno felt much taller. Rude had stood up with Reno bundled in his arms. “I’ll bring you back to mine.”

“Wait, I brought a,” Reno started.

“A big dumb basket, like always?” Rude said, a little too honestly. Reno stared at him in surprise and Rude just shrugged. “I got it, it’s—under you, I have it around my arm and I— It doesn’t matter.” Then they were moving, and Reno glanced over Rude’s shoulder to watch the bodies of the ghouls slowly shimmer into the ether.

“Rude,” Reno croaked, pressing his face into the Turk’s jacket. “Are you wasted?”

“No,” Rude said. “Just buzzed.”

Reno just laughed again, and chose to leave his head where it was. Rude smelled a little bit like the dive bar — stale cigarettes and beer — but he was more overwhelmingly smelling like the smoky tang of fire materia use and that cologne that had made him light headed before, and now, that sweet scent he could recognize as cinnamon.

It was a pretty nice combo, at least in this state of mind.

“What’s in Sector 4?” Rude asked.

Reno let out a soft sigh, but realized it was just Rude attempting to keep him awake, so he forced his eyes open to look up at him. The answer to that question was a secret. The last thing he wanted to do was put Marle in any danger, but Reno had a strange, profound desire to trust the Turk. (And maybe it wasn’t _just_ because he’d literally broken a man in front of Reno out of a desire to protect him.) “Family,” Reno said, and decided that it was honest enough. Reno felt the arms around him squeeze him just a little tighter.

“Must be nice.”

Reno let out a soft chuckle, turning his face back into the expensive material of his suit jacket. Rude stayed quiet as well, though there was only ten more minutes of walking before he murmured, “Hold onto me.” Reno shifted, able to at least get his arms around Rude’s neck so that the other man could get his keycard and open the door to the apartment building. Another short walk, the buzzing of an elevator, the jingling of keys, an impatient meow.

Reno opened his eyes just in time to feel his world tipping. Rude was leaning over the couch, carefully placing him down on the cushions. They were close, but Rude kept himself at a (shamefully) respectful distance. “Damn. I didn’t mean to make you do all that,” he said, voice a little crackly.

Rude stood up quickly, shaking his head. “I’m used to chauffeuring you around,” he said, and then moved around the couch to head into the kitchen. Reno could hear him filling a glass from the sink, shuffling around in a cupboard, and flicking on his lights, though they were dimmer than he expected. Then he appeared, with the water and enormous gray throw from the cupboard, and Reno cracked a grin at him.

“I still kinda… Can’t…”

“Oh. Ah. Hang on, I might… This is gonna sound nuts.” Rude put the items down on his coffee table. “Just — hang on.”

“Is this what you’re like when you drink?” Reno muttered, still grinning. “I’ve never heard you babble like this.”

There was a long pause as Reno listened to the distant sound of drawers opening and closing and impatient footsteps. He shut his eyes, taking in a shuddery breath.

“This is what I’m like when I’m _worried_ ,” Rude rumbled as he stepped back out into the living room.

“This’ll probably go away on its own,” Reno said.

Rude knelt down in front of the couch. “You don’t believe that, do you?” He had taken off his jacket and gloves already, and he was unfastening his cufflinks so that he could roll up his sleeves. The tie was gone, the first two buttons undone. The broken sunglasses had been discarded.

Reno hated that he felt _like this_ while Rude looked like _that_ in front of him. He laughed, though it was tinged with sadness. “Yeah, nope.”

“Do you know what it is?” Rude asked softly.

Reno shrugged. “Just cold. Drained. Like they tried to suck the life out of me, y’know?”

Rude’s shoulders rose tightly up around his ears. “So a Heal isn’t going to do anything.”

“Prob’ly not.” Reno shut his eyes. “What was your crazy idea?” A moment later, his cold hands felt warm as Rude held them again, this time those bare fingers caressing his own. Something chunky and square was placed in his hands. Reno ran his thumb over it.

“I have this charm — I have, I have a couple charms,” Rude began, and cleared his throat. “This one I don’t really know how it works, but…”

Reno forced his eyes open, eyeing the charming little locket with a skull’s face surrounded by lots of geometric shapes. He let out a hoarse laugh, and pressed it against his chest. “Where did you even get this? Give—give me your hand.”

“Family’s Costan. I don’t really, ah… Practice, so to speak, but there’s occasionally rituals I’ll go along with. I tend to stay away from the more, ah… Spiritual festivities, but before my grandparents passed away…” Rude’s hand came up to press against Reno’s. A vast warmth started emanating from their hands, spreading from Reno’s chest out to every extremity, until the icy shackles of whatever curse felt lifted from him.

There was a soft tinkling sound, and Rude pulled his hand away. Reno opened his palm to see the remains of the charm, just a glistening black pile. “You just wasted a magic Costan one-time cure-all on _me_ ,” Reno said. His voice had kind of hollowness to it, as though he couldn’t believe it.

Rude shrugged, and he was quiet for a moment after that, long enough for Reno to sit up and truly observe his surroundings. Rude’s apartment had that sad ‘clean bachelor’ look of a lot of black and gray and glass at first, but seemed to have a bit more charm in the details. He saw a cat tower across the room, and near it, a shadow of a cat, gazing suspiciously in his direction. “Here, kitty kitty.”

Rude pushed himself up to standing. “Drink that water.”

Reno rolled his eyes as Rude disappeared into the kitchen. He reached for the glass and drank it all, surprised at how thirsty he was. Still the cat watched him. “C’mon,” Reno said. “Pspspsps?”

The cat licked its paw in disinterest.

“Wow. How rude can you get?” Reno said, and stuck his tongue out at the cat.

Rude called out from the kitchen, “He’s just shy.”

“Whatever, I know how it is,” Reno harrumphed, and then stood up on shaky legs. “And… I appreciate you bringin’ me here and healing me up. But I should probably head home.”

Whatever it was Rude was doing stopped abruptly, and he stepped out of the kitchen. “You’re staying the night. Idiot.”

Reno’s mouth fell open, not able to respond.

“The whole reason you’re here is because you tried to head home in the middle of the night. It’s not _safe_ outside. I can give you my bed, if that’s the problem. I can fit on that couch.”

Reno’s mouth quivered before it broke into that irritating, charming grin. “You _do_ talk a lot when you panic.”

“I’m _not—_ ” Rude stopped himself, taking in a short breath. “You are my charming and talented friend, and I won’t see you hurt. Okay?”

Reno’s eyes softened. “Okay,” he agreed, and then flopped back onto the couch. “What are you doing in there?” He started to pull off his rings, his shoes, his hat.

“I’m starved and making food. You want any?”

Reno thought of his container of cookies, most of which Marle had eaten. “Yes, please.”

“Good. Magnus will entertain you.” Then Rude walked back into the kitchen.

Reno rolled his eyes. How could the cat entertain him? He wouldn’t even get near him. Of course, that was when he noticed the little sprite of a cat appear in front of his knees on the couch, big eyes, bigger tail. Magnus made a tiny, inquisitive ‘prrrrp?’

Reno’s heart swelled. “Ohhh, hello, kitty man.”

After several minutes of nervous sniffing, Magnus found himself seated across Reno’s lap while Reno loved on the heavy animal. The cat’s purr was loud and felt soothing on his palm. He felt himself relaxing more comfortably into the couch, just a man and his cat, before he heard Rude’s voice enter his consciousness.

“Hey. You still hungry?”

Reno jerked awake and Magnus darted off his lap. “Aww,” he said, and then shook his head to wakefulness. “Uh, yes. Sorry. Guess I was tired.”

Rude handed him a bowl of warm pasta and pesto. “And you still feel fine?”

Reno took it gratefully, sitting up to eat. Magnus jumped off of his lap in dismay, skittering over to his cat tower. “Yeah. I still can’t believe you used up a charm like that on me. You could have _tried_ a Heal first, even—”

“You’re worth a musty old locket, Reno,” Rude said, and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve had it with me for ten years and the only thing I got out of my family was ‘You’ll know it when you see it.’ Great advice, Tito,” he added with a mutter.

Reno watched him carefully as he ate the warm food, glad to have something in his belly. He knew there was more there — especially involving these grandparents — but didn’t want to push it. Instead, a small idea was taking shape. “You know,” Reno began. “The full moon is tomorrow.”

“The one we can barely see?” Rude said with a defeated smile.

“I hate to take you on another day-long trek, but…” He finished his food, setting the empty bowl on the coffee table. “There’s something I’d like to show you, but I only really have the power when the moon is full. If you can get off work…”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Rude said. “It’s more about if it’s going to be worth it to drag you and your _baskets_ half way across the continent again.”

Reno made a noise of shock, and stood up to his feet. “Well, fine then!” he huffed, stomping past Rude to head towards the door. He stopped the second he felt Rude’s hand snatch his wrist, and it took all of Reno’s willpower to not grin at the touch. It was easy to play with the other man this way, though he had a feeling it went both ways.

Rude stood up, and their bodies were suddenly close. “Tell me where you want to go,” Rude said softly.

Reno looked up at him, his soft eyes, his open collar, and he forgot what he was even talking about. Rude had this _presence_ about him that made Reno want to do crazy things, like talk about his feelings. “Anywhere,” he breathed.

Rude lifted an eyebrow at him, and Reno felt a jolt of longing hit him. “Thought you wanted to see the moon.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Reno admitted. “The real place I want to take you is literally too far away, but. Even when we can’t see the moon, its energy is there. It’d just be nice if there were actual pleasant woods, and not the monster-infested ones that is Kalm Town at night.”

Rude’s hand came up and stroked the side of Reno’s neck. Both of them paused, giving into the feeling of touching and being touched. “This is gonna sound nuts,” Rude began.

“Whatever it is, I agree,” Reno said immediately. His turquoise eyes were bright, even if his pupils were pulled wide in the dark of the apartment. “The last time you said that, you saved my life.”

“Then I guess we’re going to work on a Saturday,” Rude rumbled.

Reno’s face fell in shock. “What!? You liar—”

Rude pressed his index finger across Reno’s lips. Reno’s mouth shut in surprise, trying his very hardest not to take that finger into his mouth.

“It won’t be the same, but it’ll be nice,” Rude said. “I promise.” He moved his hand away, and Reno just nodded softly. “Now. C’mon. Let’s get you to bed.”

Reno was standing in Rude’s bedroom before he realized what the hell was happening. “Hold on—I’m not takin’ your bed!”

Rude threw a t-shirt at him. “Sure you are. You literally got accosted by ghouls. I had to carry your ass in here. You need to rest, and rest comfortably.”

Reno caught it, staring at it. It was three sizes bigger than what he normally wore. A blush started to spread on his cheeks. “That’s no fair, I’m not gonna impose on you like this.”

Rude shrugged. “I don’t mind. Magnus might sleep on your face. Bathroom’s across the hall.”

Reno clutched the soft shirt to his chest. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

“Told you. The couch.”

“Rude…”

Rude just shrugged and turned from him to head out of the bedroom. “You can hex me tomorrow in revenge. Just get some shut eye.”

Reno stood there, giddiness growing exponentially in his chest, before he shuffled into the bathroom. He cleaned himself up, stripped down to just his underwear, and slid the t-shirt on over his head. The hem of it was almost mid-thigh, and it smelled a lot like Rude.

He slithered back into the bedroom, dropping his armful of clothes on the floor, and then crawled into the bed. It was utterly unfamiliar, and yet knowing the other man was out on the couch gave him such a strong feeling of protection, he fell asleep before he had a chance to properly panic about being in Rude’s clothes, in Rude’s bed, in Rude’s home.

Instead, he slept like the dead.


	8. Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reno decides to show off his skills.

Reno woke up early. This was not his usual manner of waking — he had magical alarms that he’d have to actually get up and chase around to turn off — but the comfort of the wide, expensive mattress was unfamiliar enough to have his eyes opening just as the first streams of daylight filtered past the curtains.

 _Real_ daylight.

He yawned, trying not to give into the desire to burrow deep into the bed. The masculine scent of Rude’s bed felt like a glue trap. If he didn’t get out now, he’d never escape. Rude would walk in and find Reno in a compromising position, and—

Reno flushed as he practically leapt out of the bed. _None of that,_ he chastised himself, and tried to shake the fantasy out of his mind. He padded to the window to push the curtain open all the way, staring out as the foggy sky started to glow with natural light. He let out a slow, shaky breath, feeling his body return to its more neutral state (instead of _‘so keyed up he might climb Rude like a tree’_ ) and then quietly made his way into the living room.

He spotted Rude on the couch, curled in his side. He had a blanket around his lower half, but he wore a black t-shirt so Reno could see his tattooed arms curled around a very noisily purring Magnus.

Reno felt his heart squeeze in his chest and took another step forward. The traitorous floor squeaked, and Magnus’ head shot up in suspicion. At the sight of another person who could possibly fill his food bowl, Magnus jumped out of Rude’s grasp and skittered eagerly past Reno into the kitchen.

Reno froze, watching Rude grumble softly and then curl his arms closer to his chest. He knew it would be a better idea to talk to him now, while he still teetered on that ledge of half awake, so Reno carefully moved around to the front of the couch and sat down on the floor.

Rude’s eyes flashed open and there was Reno, at eye level, and he only _slightly_ jumped backwards. “Reno,” he said, like his throat was full of dry leaves, and cleared his throat. Reno could see the blush, which caused Reno’s mouth to split into a grin.

“Morning.” Reno’s eyes traveled down the length of the blanket, seeing Rude’s legs bent into a 45 degree angle in order to fit completely on the couch without his head on an arm rest. “Did I wake you?”

From the kitchen, Magnus made a particularly loud yowl, and Rude fell back against the couch with a laugh. His eyes closed, the back of his hand landing across his eyes. Reno pinched himself to stop from reacting at the handsome man in front of him. “No. Mag, on the other hand,” Rude rumbled.

Reno was the one who had to clear his throat this time, pushing himself to standing. “Want me to…?”

“Nah, nah, I got it,” Rude said. He pushed the blanket off, and to Reno’s surprise he was in gray sleep pants. Pleasantly modest, other than how they formed perfectly to his ass as he watched Rude walk barefoot into the kitchen.

Reno tried not to curse himself. He needed to get out of there before he did something brash, like mold his body up against Rude’s back and propose to him. Instead he just went to collect his clothes and get dressed in them again, almost feeling embarrassed by putting them back on. Like this would be a walk of shame heading home.

When he stepped back into the kitchen, Magnus was half-way through his wet food and Rude was leaning on the counter next to a french press coffee maker, scrolling through his phone. Reno folded his arms. “So what’s this about taking me to work today?”

Rude glanced up at him, and then double-took, as though he was surprised to see him dressed already. “Oh. Ah. Well, they have this 3D virtual simulation sphere—”

“I hate the sound of this already,” Reno teased.

“We could set it up anywhere you like. Junon Forest, Mideel. Cosmo Canyon. We could turn on a full moon…” He spread his hands.

Reno thought about this. “Why does this feel like a cop out?”

“Because it seems like taking you where you actually want to go might not be exactly _feasible_?” Rude said, lifting an eyebrow. The expression flustered Reno, who stared at the cat instead. His fluffy black tail curled up over his body as he quietly ate.

“Okay, that’s option one,” Reno said.

Rude actually laughed then, putting the phone down. He turned towards the french press, slowly pushing the plunger. “Option two then, Smart Guy?”

“So there’s this cave,” Reno began, and Rude laughed again, harder this time. The sound was rich and almost carefree, and Reno watched Rude’s head fall back, his shoulders shake. “What!” Reno added indignantly, though he was enjoying this side of the seemingly stoic man in the privacy of his apartment, with his soft ass-hugging pants and his cat and his coffee.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were luring me out into the spider’s parlor,” Rude teased. “You want coffee?”

“Um—yes. Wait, what spider?”

“Nevermind,” Rude said, and leaned forward to pull out two mugs. Rude filled the one with a bikini babe and the text ‘Wish You Were Her’ on it and and scooted it over in Reno’s direction. “Last night you were very agreeable on going _anywhere_. You said, ‘whatever it is, I agree’, even!”

“Oh, excuse _me_ ,” Reno said, and picked up the mug with a smirk. “You probably had me under a spell with that fetish you used on me.”

Rude scoffed, pouring too much sugar into his mug before he poured the rest of the coffee into it. “Why would I use magic when I have so much natural charisma?”

Reno’s shoulder knocked against the fridge, holding the mug in both hands. “You do,” he admitted softly. “How come you’re so bad at using it?”

Rude actually looked taken aback, turning to face him. “ _Whoa_. Who’s rude now?” he said, mock offended.

“Still you,” Reno said, and took a long sip of coffee.

Rude just chuckled. “You’re blockin’ the fridge.”

“Can’t drink your coffee without cream, huh?”

“You know, I have half a mind to take you home and leave you there,” Rude said, though it was a hollow threat.

Reno just gave him a little smirk and pushed away from the fridge. He watched Rude pull out cream, stir it into his coffee, and then sigh above the steaming mug. “What about a compromise?” Rude asked, his thumb sliding over the top of the cup’s handle.

“Somewhere between ‘high tech simulation orb’ and ‘a mushroom cave two hours from here’?”

Rude hummed. “It’s still at HQ,” he began. “But did you know, the further you are up in the city, the less Mako fog there is?”

“Looked pretty foggy out your window,” Reno said.

“Ah, but seventy flights up…”

Reno lowered his coffee thoughtfully. “Okay. Whatever it is, as long as there’s no _ghouls_ , I’ll go.”

Rude watched him for a quiet moment, and then nodded into his drink. “I’ll pick you up at eight and take you, then.” Reno suddenly felt Rude’s eyes moving up and down his form, appraising him. “Want me to drive you back?”

Reno managed just barely to keep from choking on the coffee as he swigged the rest of it down. “Nah. It’s all good. I can swing home quick enough on the trains.” He placed the cup down on the counter and felt the awkward pause start to fill his lungs. “I’ll just… See you then, then.”

Rude put his mug down and headed out of the kitchen, giving Reno his out. The witch followed easily as Rude opened the front door. “If you see anything crazy on your way out there, you call me, alright?”

“I don’t have your number,” Reno rolled his eyes.

“Shiva,” Rude uttered, and Reno swore he heard him mutter, ‘ _I am an amateur,’_ under his breath. Rude snatched up a post it note and scribbled his number on it before carefully placing it in Reno’s hand. “No excuses.” Rude had stepped close to offer it to him. Their faces were inches apart. Reno felt sweat collect at the base of his neck.

“S-sure thing,” he stammered, and as he stepped back, he actually saluted the man before taking off down the hall.

He kicked himself all the way back to the slums.

Reno took one look at himself in his mirror and knew he needed to put on more clothes. He knew that there was a good chance of sitting down on the ground, and so he had at least covered his bare legs in dark, if translucent, tights. But the bottom of his tunic barely skirted mid-way to his thigh, and it had a deeper ‘V’ than most. Still, the neckline itself had delicate black chains filling in the space so it had the illusion of modesty, at least until he shifted and the chains would split, showing milky flesh beneath.

His chunky black boots were the only practical part of his outfit, though he was very fond of the flowing sleeves of his tunic that had a shimmering lavender undertone, the thin velvet choker, and the leather belt with a sizeable amulet in the center.

It was a little over the top. He looked like was going to seduce a man and then eat his head off. Rude’s words bounced around in his head about the _‘Spider’s parlor’_ and he realized just how right the other man had been. He sighed, tugging the belt off, which at least lowered the soft velvet of the hem of his tunic another inch.

“ _Do not_ judge me, Pocket,” Reno muttered at his snake, who was coiled up and gazing at him with an expression that Reno could only assume was smugness or contentment. They looked remarkably similar. “It’s just been a while. And he’s cute. He’s real cute. And he smells like what teenage me envisioned musicians to smell like.” He put his hands on his hips, and the snake’s tongue flipped out and then back. “I haven’t been on a real date in two years, much less…” He exhaled. “It’s fine. I only need a couple things…”

He heard the shoppe’s door knock below him, and he nearly tripped over himself to get down the stairs with a basket of goods and his EMR with him. When he opened the door, Rude stood there surrounded in the aura of lit jack-o-lanterns from Reno’s porch. He had an expensive bespoke pea coat on, a slouched gray beanie, and those same, ever-present sunglasses on.

Reno did his best to appear unaffected instead of swooning onto his ass. “Eight already?”

Rude’s eyes — not that Reno could _see_ them, but he could _feel_ them — worked their way up from his ankles to the top of his head. One slim eyebrow arched above a lens even as Rude’s cheeks darkened. “You’ll want a coat.”

“What? Nah.” Reno flashed him a grin. “I’m going to guarantee a little fire for the evening. We should be fine.”

Rude cleared his throat. “I’m telling you, you’ll be freezing your—”

“Fire,” Reno repeated, poking Rude in the center of his chest. “Come on. I’ll have to setup. Wherever it is we’re goin’.” He shook the basket on his arm, the sound of his rod clinking against a few jars audible.

Rude sighed, though it did melt into a bit of a self indulgent smirk. “You didn’t even ask if where we’re going you _could_ cause fire. What if I was taking you inside a tiny attic?”

“You’re showing me the moon, right? Gotta be open air.”

“Glass exists, you know.”

The more they bickered, the closer they got, until Reno was standing close enough that it felt like Rude was gazing straight down the long vee of his dress. Reno folded his arms. “Don’t keep me waiting, Suit.”

Rude took a step back, and in the time Reno took to lock up, Rude had opened up the passenger door with irritating chivalrous timing.

Reno opened the back door to throw his basket in, and then climbed in the door Rude had actually opened.

The drive up felt charged. Reno wasn’t sure where they were headed, and Rude didn’t know what kind of _fiery excitement_ awaited him. Instead the two indulged in jokes about their colleagues; Rude had a story or two about an irritating ginger named Rod, and Reno knew way too much about Aerith that left Rude a little red faced but laughing nonetheless.

As they approached the Shinra building, Reno felt a discomfiting sense of uneasiness come over him. “You sure about this?”

“What’s the problem?” Rude asked as he pulled off into a parking garage. “Don’t like elevators?”

“This place just sucks most of the time,” Reno said with a soft chuckle. Rude’s mouth softened into a half smile. It was true that a lot of what Shinra did wasn’t necessarily good for the people who lived under the plate. There was a lot of resentment within the populace for the corporation. But it was all the more reason that Rude felt good about taking this ‘civilian’ on places no one was normally allowed, unless you had clearance.

And Rude had clearance.

They parked, and Rude grabbed the basket before Reno had the chance, though he was sure he saw Rude toss a six pack into it with a wink. Reno just rolled his eyes as they headed toward a particularly industrial looking elevator. Reno was the one with free hands, so as they stepped in, he gazed at the buttons. “Which floor?”

“Ah. Hang on, it’s in my wallet.”

“What is?” Reno asked, and stepped up to him to slide his own hand into Rude’s left coat pocket to grope around.

Rude’s mouth went dry. “Other pocket.”

Reno’s hand moved to the other pocket and successfully pulled the wallet out. He stuck his tongue between his teeth in victory and opened it.

“The black and red card,” Rude said. “Scan it at the top there.”

Reno pulled out the familiar card that he’d assumed only operated as a credit card. It felt heavy in his hands as he held it over the panel above the buttons. The elevator made a soft, modern ‘ding’, and Rude said out loud: “Roof top.”

The elevator buzzed to life, rapidly moving upwards. Reno gazed at him. The roof? Of the _Shinra building?_

Shiva, he was dumb as a bag of bricks. He was going to freeze up there.

“Can I get my wallet back?” Rude asked cheekily.

Reno stuffed the card back into the wallet and then made a big show of sliding it back into Rude’s coat pocket. “The roof top, huh?”

Rude chose not to say _‘I told you so,’_ but Reno could feel it in his bones. “We’ll see about that fire,” he said instead.

“You could have told me,” Reno insisted.

Rude leveled that gaze on him again, saying nothing. No reason to rub it in.

“What’s even up here?” Reno asked instead. “Isn’t this just where helicopters land?”

“At the executive levels, sure,” Rude said, and shifted the heavy basket onto his opposite arm. “But the very top is small. I believe someone maintains a small garden.”

“A garden on top of the world, huh?” Reno asked, and the elevator came to a smooth stop. “Seems lonely.”

“That’s Reeve for you,” Rude muttered as he stepped out of the elevator. There was another door directly in front of them, and Rude said, “Brace yourself,” before Reno could ask anything about whoever _Reeve_ was.

The door opened and the sound of the wind filling the small room was immense. Reno quickly pushed out after Rude, and when the door slammed behind them, the sound seemed to die down. The wind whipped around them, but at the same time, there was indeed a few raised beds of small plants and flowers, and a large central area covered in healthy soil. They were so far up that the moon looked like Reno could pluck it out of the sky, even as the glow of the city surrounded them; the line of mako haze was visible, and they were able to see above it. The light pollution was too string to bring out individual sparkling stars, but the moon was so bright, Reno couldn’t complain.

“So?” Rude asked, and placed the basket down. He spread his bare hands. “Can you work with this?”

Reno stepped into the center of the dirt and planters and put his hands on his hips. He knew at this angle, the very high hem line of his tunic would be most obvious, but all he could think about was how damn cold he was. He was a little bit of an idiot. “I think so,” he said, and then turned to look at Rude sheepishly. “But I’m awfully cold.”

Rude stared at him for a long moment, and then took several long steps to join him. He stood by silently as he unfastened the large buttons of his pea coat, sliding it off of his shoulders to reveal the deep aubergine turtleneck he had on underneath. Reno was nearly mad that this way, in dark, shapely jeans and a sweater, Rude was _even hotter_. How was that even allowed?

Rude moved the coat with a flourish over Reno’s shoulders and tugged the collar forward a bit so that it would settle around him. The damn coat was longer than his tunic. “Anything else, your highness?” he rumbled.

Reno couldn’t find his voice for a moment, and then shook his head. “Um, I mean, yes, it’s why I brought the um—the basket, but if you’ll just…” He gestured to send him away.

Rude took a step back from him, hands in the air in defeat. “I’ll just stand by, then.”

Reno made his way back over to the basket, digging out his rod and one small satchel. “You wouldn’t have a Barrier materia, would you?”

Rude shook his head, and so Reno continued resolutely with his plan. He returned to just outside the center of the soil and opened the string and paper wrapping of the satchel. A chunky powder swirled to the ground below him — ground petals and ash and blood and shed scales — and then softened into the moist earth. Reno tucked the rod under his armpit, instead letting his hands hover perpendicular to the ground, humming softly.

There, a thin orange stem seemed to grow out of the dirt, winding and twisting in the air like a glowing grape vine, until it burst into a circle of flames and landed daintily back on the ground in the shape of a roaring stone fire pit. It pushed and pulled dangerously in the wind, but flickered with life nonetheless. “Fire!” Reno said triumphantly, and looked back at Rude with a grin on his face. Rude, however, seemed more awed than amused. “Next, I gotta… Take care of this wind…”

With the wind whipping around them, Rude could only see Reno’s mouth moving but not hear. His eyes darted up above him, watching the witch raise the (Shinra standard, Rude mused) electro magnetic rod in a circle, sparks flying out the end and then shooting out in all manner of angles. Each electric pulse stopped at a specific point near the edges of the roof, and suddenly the wind seemed to die down as a barrier — with no materia — shimmered into place.

This time, Rude tugged his sunglasses off and met Reno’s excited smile as the witch pirouetted. “Ha! Still got it!” Reno looked a little embarrassed. “The moon helps.”

Rude tugged his hat a little further down over his ears as he stepped up to Reno again. “How do you do all this without, you know.”

Reno filled in the blank for him. “Without the materia?”

Rude nodded, pressing his lips together. It wasn’t just that he was impressed by the showing, but also that he had a genuine curiosity about how things like this worked. He had more than one Costan charm, that had nothing to do with the compressed mako balls he used on the job.

Without the wind, the fire crackled with charming regularity. Reno bent down into the basket again, this time pulling out a raggedy looking blanket and the six pack Rude had thrown in earlier. He spread out the blanket and dropped down onto it in front of the fire, patting the spot close to him. “C’mere.”

Rude eased himself down onto the soft blanket. Here, on top of the world, it felt extraordinarily quiet. No reactor hum, no expressway droning with automobiles. They sat close, but only their knees touched as Rude gazed into the strangely cozy fire in front of him.

Reno tugged the pea coat a little tighter around him, covering his exposed chest. “So… Magic is everywhere, right?” He glanced over at Rude, who seemed to be listening, but the fire kept his eye. “And materia is like… Scientific magic.” Reno looked down at his own hands, his fingerless gloves offering little heat, but plenty of pizazz. “It’s physically manifested. You can touch it, see it. It can be studied and mastered, even by those with no magical roots. To be fair, the stronger your magical prowess, the more likely you are to be able to use stuff besides materia.

“My potion making and alchemy work is more than just combining herbs. There’s a spiritual component to all things magical. The spiritual stuff is like magic cast without the solidified mako. It comes from the connection to Gaia’s spiritual center.” His nasal voice seemed to even out as he talked, growing more contemplative. “The Life Stream is not where all magic comes from, but it is a powerful font than can be manipulated. The Life Stream is more about the passage of souls in a neverending cycle. Have you ever seen a mako fountain?”

Rude looked over at him, watching the flames change the color of Reno’s face to a glowing gold. “Once or twice.”

“Well, just like how there’s mako fonts, there’s spiritual fonts, too. The Costa del Sol region is heavy with ‘em. Obviously it led to a densely religious populace, many of whom practice a certain ah… ‘witchcraft’ that focuses more on the spirit itself. That, I’m guessing, is where your charm came from. Do you know _anything_ about what it did? Or who made it?”

Rude’s right hand clenched a bit, rubbing his thumb against his fingertips in thought. “Kind of. Not really. I have… More charms,” he admitted, “than just the skull amulet.”

Reno gestured at the fire, a flash of black powder flying from his hand into the flames. The fire transformed shape into a skull, jaw unhinged, and then in a _fwoosh_ _!_ of flames it returned to normal. “A skull,” Reno said, “is alway a sign of Hades’ spiritual magic.” He reached out for Rude’s hands, grateful for the chance to touch the bare skin again. There was almost a static charge when their hands touched.

“So what does a ‘spiritual heal’ do?” Rude asked. Despite everything, he still felt the need to lean closer to Reno up on this high building. Reno was awfully quiet up here, after all.

“That little amulet restored pieces of my soul,” Reno said softly. “The ghouls are basically out to drain the life out of us. But that little charm was able to bring me back the pieces that were removed. Probably floating around in limbo or something.”

Rude stared at him in shocked silence, so Reno continued.

“How you managed to have an amulet that _brought me back to life—_ ”

“That is _not_ what happened.”

“— _back to life_ ,” Reno continued with a smirk, “yet you can’t keep a house plant alive.”

Rude gave him a long hard look, even as their hands touched, and then a low laugh escaped him. “I thought you were prickly when I met you.”

Reno’s smirk looked very self satisfied.

“Turns out,” Rude teased, “you’re just a prick.”

Reno gasped, pulling his hand away from Rude’s so he could shove him on the shoulder. “How could you?” he asked, playing it up. “I turn this lemons of a location into lemon meringue pie with magic, set up this whole date, and you call me a prick?”

Rude reached for the same hand and pulled him closer. Their legs touched from knee to thigh, now, and Reno felt whatever complaints he had just dribble out of his brain. He had been focusing very hard on making this entertaining, but Rude made it difficult, with his expensive purple sweater and that _cologne_. Reno had been trying to focus on the wood smoke of the fire, but Rude’s scent left his mind howling like a wolf.

“Am I wrong, though?” Rude’s voice rumbled, knocking Reno out of an embarrassed reverie. “I thought you prided yourself on making random guys hate you?”

Reno gathered his wits, tipping his head back to level a sly grin at Rude. “I suppose it’s true,” he admitted, “but having you around to break their limbs for me definitely adds to the appeal.”

Rude chuckled. “Are you ever gonna let that go?”

“No way!” Reno said, looking up at him from under long eyelashes. “It was hot as hell. And nobody’s ever done that on my behalf before. And believe me.” He let out a soft, sad laugh. “I’ve needed it before.”

Unfortunately, that only brought a frown to Rude’s face. “And I was only worried about Aerith before. Now I’ve gotta worry about you pissing off the wrong hillbilly.”

Reno’s grin was smug. “So, you want to protect me, huh?”

“Yes,” Rude said instantly, no forethought required.

That knocked the breath out of Reno. He felt his face growing pink. “Then maybe, um… I should come clean.”

Rude only leaned back a fraction of an inch, but it was enough for the two of them to realize just how close they’d gotten. Rude cleared his throat. “About what?”

“I didn’t heal your plant. I called Aerith when you left it there. She cured it that night.”

Rude stared at him, again, silent.

“Look, I don’t do plants! And she ah, instantly guessed who you were. And who Tseng was.”

Rude’s eyebrows drew up in the center, his warm brown eyes growing wider and, damnably, sadder. “You lied to me about _that_?”

“It’s not like I could admit it after you specifically chose me to avoid Aerith!” Reno sputtered. “And besides, you dropped the whole plant thing after you decided to come back to my shop…”

“You literally came to my workplace to _find me_ and _invite me_ back to your shop since I had specifically done what you asked, and _stayed the hell_ away from you.” Rude folded his arms, the distance between them growing again. Rude was sensitive — something Reno knew _now_ since that first miserable date — and Reno would have to be blind to not see that he was upset.

Reno didn’t want to screw this up. He _liked_ Rude, to the point where he had purposely not kissed him. He was terrified of screwing it up. He valued the other man’s presence immensely, and not only because he broke a dude’s arm. “I didn’t know at the time that it would hurt you, okay?” Reno choked out. “I didn’t even know who you worked for, and you admitted it yourself that you had been an asshole too.” He couldn’t meet his eyes, and instead stared at the fire. “After I got over my whole _thing_ about judging you… Hell, even before that. You’ve taken up residence in my brain, Rude. I, um. I care about you. And I just wanted you to know the _only_ real lie I’ve told you.”

When Rude turned to look at him, Reno had to meet his gaze. His eyes were deep and soft, and Reno wanted to fall in. Rude reached for his hand and squeezed it, tangling their fingers together. He didn’t say anything — no ‘I accept your apology’ or anything — and instead just pulled Reno right up to his chest. Rude tucked one of his knees in, and then maneuvered it so that it was behind Reno, effectively pulling the witch to sit in between his legs.

Reno couldn’t exactly see his face, but his entire body felt lit up from the touch from his butt to the back of his neck where he was pressed flush against Rude. “My grandparents weren’t witches,” Rude started, and Reno let his eyes flutter closed. “At least, not openly. Not that they ever told me. But growing up, there was always something a little magical about certain things. Tito had this little shrine to Phoenix in the bedroom. The holidays always felt like some kind of subtle hint. Like, if I just knew a little more, maybe I’d get something different out of it.”

The fire crackled. “When did they die?” Reno asked.

“I was 14. No other family out there. So I sold most of the things in the house, kept the property, and ended up in Midgar. In the slums, until Veld — my boss — picked me up.”

“Do you think they made the charm?”

“If it wasn’t them, then it was a family friend. I never knew, just that they gave them to me.”

“And the others you have…?”

Rude’s arms came a round Reno’s body, already wrapped up in his coat, and embraced him lightly. “All I really knew was materia seemed a lot more accessible, honestly.”

“And you’re quite proficient,” Reno teased.

“I can use materia just like tons of other people,” Rude snorted.

“That fetish only worked after your hand touched mine,” Reno said quietly. “I am ninety percent sure you have the talent.”

“I guess,” Rude muttered, the embarrassment audible in his sweet tone.

“So help me out,” Reno said in an attempt to distract him. “Did you ever participate in funerals back home?”

Rude shrugged. “Yeah. But they were… Strange.”

Reno turned his face, enough that he could see Rude’s hovering close to his. If he pursed his lips he could kiss his cheek, but Reno didn’t, only gazed at him almost dotingly. “Just tell me. Quit being embarrassed. I know about magic, not religion.”

Rude exhaled shakily. “The culture is very sea based, as you might imagine,” he began. “Funerals used to involve sending the body out to sea. Nowadays it was more about cremating the body and spread the ashes in the ocean. But the principle is the same. Hades will ferry them on t heir journey, if he can get past the Phoenix, who travels frequently between the veils — like Hades. Their movement is constant, a reversal of one over the other.”

Reno hummed thoughtfully. “The charm had a skull, which we established, is associated with Hades. Which has an important connection to death rites in your culture. So an emblem to help ferry a soul to the right place.” His head fell back against Rude’s broad shoulder. “So it wasn’t a ‘cure all’, but exactly the type of thing that would save me. And you’re _sure_ you just thought you’d try it because your inner voice said to?”

Rude shrugged helplessly. “Honest.”

“This just confirms a thought I’d had, though,” Reno continued. “The ghouls are coming through the veil. They’re taking a physical shape and trying to… devour life force out of people. Someone must have caused th is, someone with a lot of power and necromantic prowess.”

“Still waiting on that dark wizard connection,” Rude murmured, and got a light elbow to his ribs for it. He chuckled.

“I wonder if I could find the source of the power and then… I don’t know. Turn it off?”

Rude was quiet for a moment, and then his hand found Reno’s left, curling his fingers protectively around it. “You think you could?”

Reno didn’t look sure, or sound sure, but he shrugged with the kind of defiant determination that made him as prickly as he was. “I know a pretty powerful witch who can help.”

Rude nodded, hooking his chin over Reno’s shoulder. “You’re not gonna do anything crazy without me, right?”

Reno rolled his eyes. “What are you, my dad?”

Rude earned plenty of good karma that night for restraining himself from making _any_ sort of ‘who’s your daddy’ joke. “The Turks have resources at their disposal,” Rude said instead. “I want to help you. It’s what I’ve basically been working on for weeks. Plus, I may have more um… Spiritual assistance.”

Reno laughed, but specifically did not agree to anything. No need to lie any more. “You know,” Reno said, “I did want to learn more about you. But that’s not why I brought you out here.”

“Oh yeah?” Rude said, his eyebrows raising in amused delight.

“Yeah. I’m tryin’ to show off. Jeez.” Reno scooted forward, awkwardly throwing his weight to his hands so he could stand up. “Stay there.”

Rude stayed seated as Reno whipped the EMR back out. “Right then. Just sit back and relax, yo.”

Rude did. He watched as Reno twirled the rod like a baton, and neon green grass seemed to pop up all around them on the soil. More tendrils similar to the one that created the fire spiraled out of the grass, slowly expanding into large glowing yellow and silver lanterns that floated above them, casting new light onto the small garden. Reno pulled out another sachet, and this time the powder that he flicked into the air disappeared instantly. In its place was _sound_. The soft tinkling of chimes mixing with the rosy warm drone of crickets filled the air, and the sharp dang of ozone from the EMR faded into the smoke of the fire. The fire itself twisted and shifted until it seemed to be fading from orange to purple to green to red and back, like nothing Rude had ever seen.

He let himself lean back, giving into the enchanted look of _everything_ , though his eyes always ended up back on the witch in his coat. Reno finally spun around, standing in front of the fire with hands triumphantly on his hips. Reno, who said he specialized in potions and alchemy and _maybe_ darker arts, had simply conjured up fantastical illusions just for Rude’s benefit, and he’d done a spectacular job. It implied that this was the kind of thing Reno tooled out in his spare time. For fun.

Rude was, for lack of a better word, dazzled.

Reno’s cheeks were flushed. “Do you like it?” he asked, grinning down at Rude. “I know it’s not like, filling the sky with fireworks or anything, but—whoa!”

Rude had reached up for Reno’s hand, promptly pulling his slender body down into his lap again. All the breath rushed out of Reno as Rude’s bare hand came up behind Reno’s neck, holding him softly. “It’s beautiful,” Rude said, and closed the distance between them with a soft, chaste kiss.

Reno felt his heart pounding hard in his chest, one hand reaching out to get a handful of Rude’s sweater. After what felt like forever, Rude pulled back, those soft eyes only for Reno, and the witch immediately pressed another kiss to his lips, unable to stop. Their mouths tenderly worked each other open until Reno couldn’t help but moan around the slide of Rude’s tongue in his mouth. Their chests pressed closer as Rude teased deeper kisses out of him. Tiny whimpers were coming out of Reno that he couldn’t control. The desire he’d been holding out on was hitting him like a freight train, and it was going to be more obvious than ever what with his less-than-modest clothing choices.

Rude’s hand found its way past his own coat until it was wrapped around Reno’s back. When they separated, Reno was practically panting, the only thing he could stammer out being Rude’s name.

Rude leaned in to kiss him again when a shrill noise caught them both off guard. Rude’s pocket was buzzing.

Reno’s first real noise was a groan. “You can _not_ answer that right now.”

His PHS continued to vibrate and screech as Rude carefully leaned back. “I—uh—I hafta…”

Reno slouched back, the brilliant illusions fading from view as his mood began to fall.

Rude fished the enormous phone out of his pocket and answered. He immediately frowned at the familiar voice of his boss over the phone. “Good. We need you at HQ ASAP,” Veld’s tinny voice said. “We have a lead on the occult user and his potential location. You and Gun need to get out there now before the bastard floods Sector 5 with more ghouls.”

“Yes, sir,” Rude said, and then the call ended. His eyes met Reno’s, and Reno gave him the saddest, most convincing pout he’d ever seen in his life.

“But it’s Saturday,” Reno whimpered.

“A Turk’s work is ever present,” Rude recited, and then carefully pushed himself to standing. He reached for Reno, pulling him up as well. “Still… It’s late. I can’t escort you home, but I could have someone drop you off at home in a heli.”

Reno stared at him. “Is that a joke?”

“Or a private car out to my place. Then you could feed Mag for me…”

“Hell no. You’re getting me a helicopter,” Reno said, and harrumphed. “It’s the least I deserve, setting up the world’s most romantic date and then _this—_ ”

Rude kissed him again, and Reno melted up against him. “I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

Reno pressed his cheek against Rude. “Where are you going?”

Rude’s shoulders stiffened. “You know I can’t—”

“I just wanna know where to look for your soulless body,” Reno said, and it was supposed to be a joke, but there’s a nervousness in Reno’s eyes that caused Rude to pull him into a hug.

“They think he’s in Sector 5,” Rude murmured, and then pulled back. “But I’m sending you _home_. You hear me?”

Reno batted his eyelashes at him, and then pulled away so that he could start collecting his things. He carefully put out the fire with a wave of the rod, and then finally removed the barrier, the roar of the wind filling their ears once more.

Rude tugged on his hand as they headed back inside. “It’s just recon,” Rude said.

“Sure, sure,” Reno hummed, holding his basket to his chest. “But I’m keeping the coat.”

Rude reached into the jacket pockets, getting almost too close for Reno’s comfort, as he pulled out both his gloves and his sunglasses. “You fill it out nicely,” Rude hummed, settling the shades on his nose with a smirk.

The elevator only moved down a few floors before they were getting out again. “Now come on,” Rude said, spotting the helicopter landing pads in front of them. “Let’s get you home.”


	9. Go It Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rude attempts to solve the problem the Shinra way.

At the helipad, Rude was genuinely surprised to see the pilot he had summoned wasn’t another Turk, or even a lower-class pilot. It was Director Tuesti, looking cool and calm as usual in a way that exuded trust. If Rude hadn’t known Reeve so well, he would have been suspicious.

“Director?” Rude asked, the wind on the lower level much less loud. “I asked for a helicopter pilot, my friend here needs an escort home below the plate.”

“What, you don’t think I can fly one of these things?” Reeve asked, his eyes soft. “C’mon, you know I build little robots in my spare time. This is nothing.”

“He _what_ ,” Reno whispered behind the bulk of Rude’s body.

“Full of surprises, Director Tuesti,” Rude said, mouth flat but tone of voice just enough to hint at his teasing.

“Please, it’s _way_ after hours. You’re in a turtleneck. Call me Reeve.”

Rude sighed, shaking his head as a small, but genuine, smile crept onto his face. “Fine, Reeve. Are you the only person on duty?”

“No, but I admit I heard the request and… Had to wonder,” Reeve stated, and slowly peered around Rude. “This is the Sector 2 witch, right?”

Reno stuck his tongue out at him, and Reeve honest to God _blushed_. “My name’s _Reno_ , thanks.”

“Reno! Right. Excuse me. I just — when I missed out on a palm reading when you were actually here, I knew I’d missed out on something. I just wanted to talk to him a little, and figured giving him a ride home would help get us acquainted.”

Rude instantly grew suspicious, around _Reeve_ , for the first time in his _life_ , and waved Reno back a little as he stepped quickly into Reeve’s personal space. “I thought you wanted to do this out of the kindness of your heart,” Rude said quietly, with the type of voice that carried a very real threat. “Keep it in your pants, _Reeve._ ”

Reeve’s face exploded in a blush. “ _No_!” he shouted, and then his eyes widened further as he saw Rude’s hand raise. “ _No_ , I mean, _that’s not it at all_ , I swear!” Reeve’s hands went up innocently as the words poured out of him rapid-fire. “I just have a passing interest in the occult and it’s so hard to find a genuine witch who’s interested in that sort of thing and I’d heard through the grapevine that you trusted this one and I promise you!” Reeve made a cross with his hands. “I was not intending to do anything untoward!”

Rude’s hand still moved up, though Reeve only received a sharp finger pointing to his chest. “See that you _don’t_.” Rude then stepped back, turning back to Reno with a light expression, as if a switch had been flicked. “Reeve here will be escorting you home. When you get there, stay inside, alright?”

Reno gazed at him knowingly. He knew exactly how jealous Rude had just gotten, and he had a smug expression that made Rude warm with affection. “Of course I will,” Reno said, and now he was the one to crowd up into Rude’s personal space. “Just wish you were takin’ me home.”

Rude’s forehead dropped down to touch Reno’s. “I wish we were still on our _date—_ ” and then glanced up, saw Reeve actively _not_ looking away, and Rude stepped back. “But, next time.”

Reno’s pout was dense. It was palpable. Rude should have kissed the pout off his lips, but with Reeve there, he didn’t feel comfortable with it. “You promise?” Reno asked.

“I swear it. You’ve got my jacket, after all,” Rude teased, and then turned to head inside, afraid that if he watched Reno go, he’d thunder after them to keep six feet between the two of them.

Back inside the temperate and un-changing climate of the Shinra building, Rude was able to take the beanie off his head. He was just glad he still had a clean suit stored away, and stopped at the locker room to pull out the belongings he needed. He stopped in front of a mirror, slowly exhaling.

He had taken in a _lot_ of information in the past hour. Yet he could hardly think about necromancers and ghouls when all he could actually think about was that poison apple mouthed man in his coat. He wanted him in his arms, not… Well, if he wasn’t in his arms, safe at home was the only preferable alternative, to be honest.

He’d rather be safe in Reno’s home with him in his arms, too.

He gave himself a shake and changed into his usual suit and tie, a sense of professional duty settling onto his shoulders as he stepped into the proverbial uniform. He could show up at Reno’s tomorrow morning with breakfast sausage, but for now, he was all business.

Which was all the better for when he turned around and barely restrained a jump at the sight of Gun in front of him with a smirk on her face. “You flinched.”

Rude pushed his sunglasses up his nose. “We going now?”

“Not exactly,” Gun said with a sigh as they headed back to their crowded offices. “We’re not going alone. Taking a couple police with us, and there’s actually two locations. We’ll need to confirm which place we need to drop in on before we actually fly out.”

Rude’s demeanor cooled as he realized this was going to take _hours_. So much for breakfast in bed with a witch. He just grunted an affirmative at Gun as they sat down to sort through the files for the location.

Veld hadn’t called again, which was all the better for Veld, as Rude was so cranky from having his date interrupted he would have given his superior a strong piece of his mind. Or, okay, maybe he’d just glare at him behind his sunglasses. Or think about glaring at him, since it would be over the phone.

“Rude? You’re daydreaming again,” Gun said, waving her pencil in front of his face.

“No I wasn’t. And you can’t _daydream_ at one AM.”

“You put your pen down on the paper, stared off into the distance, and drew like thirty circles. You’re daydreaming. You got a girlfriend?” Gun’s sharp eyebrows drew down mischievously. “A boyfriend?”

Rude refused to rise to the bait, and instead stared down at his paper. He’d circled a location over and over, like his hand had been drawn to that spot on the map. He lifted the paper to look at again. “Wasn’t daydreaming,” he denied. “I just think I know where this guy is.”

Gun rolled her eyes at him. “We’re not going on a wild goose chase in the middle of the night on my day off so you can avoid talking about your boyfriend.”

“He’s _not_ ,” Rude began, and then snapped his teeth shut as Gun’s expression turned positively devilish. “This _location_ ,” he said instead, “is directly between the two potentials, and it comes in very close contact with the stream at Aerith’s mother’s home.”

“So?” Gun asked, and popped her gum in her mouth.

“I know there’s a place here, and if you’re going to be fooling around with the magic of the dead, you’d want a close connection to the Life Stream.”

“I hate to tell ya, but that little drainage creek ain’t the Life Stream, Rude.”

“No, but it’s easy to get close to it there. Aerith’s talked about it before.”

Gun tilted her head. “So it is a girlfriend?”

“What? No! Gun, listen to me,” he said as he stood up, tucking the map into his jacket. “Grab the MPs and meet me at the helipad. I know where to go.”

Rude had been right about there being a ‘place’ in the location he’d circled: a squalid shack, torn to shreds by time and possibly by monsters. It didn’t look abandoned, however, and they found plenty of used potion bottles and many haphazardly bound xeroxed copies of books. The copies looked new — despite them being damaged by coffee and occasional red stains — but the actual content on the pages looked like it was from a very old book. In the back was what could have been a bed, if it hadn’t clearly been stone and covered in blood.

Rude felt a chill slither down his spine. “An altar,” he said, and Gun leaned in close to it.

“The hell kinda ghoul do you slice up that bleeds?” she asked.

“That’s not for ghouls,” Rude said, and they both went quiet as they continued to sort through the myriad of trash.

There were no clothes, and there was clearly no one home. Gun kicked at the ground after they spent another thirty minutes digging through paper and questionable items while the MPs idled around outside. “Why don’t these shady twerps ever leave a calling card?”

Rude’s own frustration was mounting, but he paused to stand up and gaze at her. “You mean why doesn’t the _evil necromancer_ have _business cards_? Available for weddings, birthday parties and naming ceremonies?”

They were quiet for a full five seconds before Gun burst out laughing, and Rude joined her in a soft chuckle. Gun tugged on her jacket. “Let’s get out of here and tell Veld what we got: bupkiss.”

Rude felt his phone buzz, and sighed. Speak of the devil. “Can’t we just write up a report and give it to him Monday?”

“You already ruined my Saturday night,” Gun said, pointing at him. “Don’t ruin Sunday morning by having Veld crawl up my ass at 6 AM asking for—”

A flash of light exploded outside the haphazard shack. The two of them burst out to see a beam of light shooting up out of the ground nearby, the light obviously blue but so bright it was nearly blinding white. “Where the hell is that coming from?” Gun barked at the MPs, who quickly pulled out their mapping equipment. It was too hard to see where it was actually coming from, as there were many rows of homes and tons of jutting concrete debris between them and it.

Rude pulled out his PHS as well, only to see the notification was not from Veld, but from an unfamiliar phone number. It said: _I’m sorry._

Rude stared at it for a long moment before fear seized him. Reno. _Reno’s number._

He didn’t wait for the MPs or Gun to triangulate wherever the light came from. He didn’t hear them shout after him as he practically disappeared in a Haste-enhanced blur. Instead, he ran for it, feeling the power of the full moon guide him towards his goal.

Reno.


	10. Heaven Hammer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reno becomes the hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!!! Thanks for sticking with me on this sporadic posting schedule! Here's the final chapter, sorry about any floating loose ends, but I had a ton of fun writing this whole thing.
> 
> Also, sorry to my perpetual punching bag, Reeve.

Reno gave Reeve a long-suffering stare. “Okay, spill it.”

Reeve glanced over his shoulder to confirm that Rude was properly walking away from him, and then disappeared into the building. He let out a long breath. “I’m not taking you home.” This was the wrong time to pause, as Reno yanked his rod of his basket and pointed it at him. “Wait, wait! Shiva. Okay. I want to take you to Aerith.”

Reno blinked slowly at him, the tip of the rod lowering. “Why…?”

“I dabble in your magic, a little. And when you’re high up at Shinra, it’s easy to find your way to Aerith for things. We practically raised her.” His mouth turned into a grimace. “Not the right way, but.”

“Yeah, I know what you sickos did,” Reno sneered, and raised the rod again. “Why should I trust you?”

Reeve took a brave step closer, letting the tip of the EMR touch his chest. “I’ve been passing information to Aerith about the Turks’ leads about the magical disruption. She knows where to go, and she might have an idea on what to do.”

Reno stared at him, his normally wide blue-green eyes squinted down in suspicion. After a tense thirty seconds, he let the tip of the EMR drop as it swung on his wrist strap. “Did she find the source? The…”

“The break in the veil? Yes.”

Reno felt the color drain from his face. “So it’s true.”

“And I can take you to her, there, now,” Reeve said, nodding in urgency. “You can say no, but—”

“I won’t,” Reno said with a nod. “If we can just seal it…” He drifted off, biting his lip, and then tucked his wand back into the basket. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Reno would have been mad if he hadn’t been so overcome with nervousness. He was sitting in a helicopter with massive headphones and mic settled over his head, the lights of the upper plate sparkling below him, the moon glowing like a fuzzy lamp through the mako smog above — but the images barely registered. His mind was running a mile a minute. What kind of seals did he know? Would he be able to pull off a little blood magic without his favorite knife? Did Aerith already know what to do? To seal a portal, how much blood would you need? How much life? What would Rude say if he knew he was doing this without him? What would he _do_ if something actually bad happened?

“-no? Reno?”

Reno jolted up and saw they had already descended below plate. He frowned, amazed that he hadn’t realized Reeve was talking even with the headphones settled so comfortably and his voice so clear. “Come again?”

“Did you like the garden?”

Reno turned to look at him, squinting again. “Were you spying on us?”

Reeve’s cheeks colored. “No. But I ah, I maintain that garden, on the roof. Can’t grow much with all the wind, unless you ward the place, and I mean, I am picky about who I let up there.”

Reno sucked at his teeth, and then nodded. “Rude had to ask you to let him go up.”

“A week ago, honestly,” Reeve said. His mouth, though frequently worried, upturned into a sweet smile. “He’s been dying to take you up there, you know.”

Reno turned away from him with a pout. “He’s sure as hell never mentioned you.”

Reeve just chuckled. “Has he talked about anyone from work?”

“Besides how his boss would kill him for a house plant? No.”

“Then I’m not mad,” Reeve said, chuckling again. “Ah… Here we go.”

Reno stared out the front windshield and then the side, attempting to locate where they were in the dark of night. The only thing he could truly see were the spotlights from the chopper reflecting off of a stream of water, and he swore.

“It’s at her mom’s place!?”

“Nearly,” Reeve said, and landed somewhat precariously on a wide area that had been flattened out from frequent helicopter landings. Reno tugged his black mage hat back on his head as Reeve helped him pile out, and they took the short walk to Elmyra’s cottage together. Everything seemed a little less bright and green without Aerith living there. Aerith was to the far right, in her big white hat and holding her intricately carved staff, surrounded by the flowers she raised as a child.

Reno ran to her, having left his basket but brought his EMR — and Rude’s coat — with him. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about your little spy operation!?” he blurted out.

Aerith looked apologetic. “I didn’t think you would want to get involved, and… I didn’t want to put you in unnecessary danger.”

“Yeah, stuff it, princess, I’m coming with and _I’m_ gonna be the hero,” he said, and then looked her up and down properly. “Sorry. I should have called you a priestess, not princess. Look at you, you’re practically a white mage.” His expression broke into an awkward, soft one. The brotherly affection he had for her was strong, even if difficult to express.

“Thanks,” Aerith said, and then gave him a coy smile. “I think.”

Reno sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, alright, you look badass and like you could Megaflare us all out of existence with just your mind.”

“It’s the staff,” Aerith giggled, and Reno caught the contagious laughter.

Reeve cleared his throat behind them. “Ah, to the… Matter at hand.”

“Jeez, who invited you?” Reno said as he whipped around, and Aerith tutted.

“I did, you dweeb,” Aerith huffed, and then crossed her arms over her slanted staff. “What do you know?”

“Nothing concrete,” Reno said. “I’ve been attacked by some of the ghouls before—”

Aerith lifted an eyebrow. “You look good after that.”

“Here’s the thing, though. Rude had some kinda Hades-based fetish just _lying around_ and used it on me. Fixed me up real fast. So we assumed that these things aren’t actually living — that their being here is causing them to need to sustain themselves, somehow, and that they have to be coming from somewhere…”

“Somewhere where there are dead souls,” Aerith said with a nod. “As though they’re slipping between worlds, from the flow of afterlife and hitching a ride where they’re not supposed to, and returning…”

“Half baked and screwed up,” Reno finished. “Do you know where the breach is?”

Aerith nodded, gesturing with her staff. “Reeve? Do you have the um…”

“Oh! Yes!” Reeve said, quickly handing out medium-sized black tubes to both Aerith and Reno. Reno stared at it in confusion before Aerith unsheathed hers and popped it open, revealing an (embarrassingly) Shinra branded umbrella.

“It’s past the waterfall,” Aerith said, and Reno and Reeve followed with their black and red umbrellas carefully tucked above them. Water still splashed a bit on their sides as they walked behind the otherwise innocuous waterfall outside the cottage, showing a dark cave. Out of habit, Reno uttered a few words at the same time as Aerith, and two floating balls of light hovered near them.

“Still got it,” Reno said smugly as he tucked the umbrella back into itself. “What else do you know, Aerith?”

“I know who caused it,” she said in an oddly mysterious voice. “But that doesn’t matter—”

“Ohh yes it does,” Reno said, lurching in front of her. “I wanna wring this guy’s _neck—”_

“Please don’t wring my neck,” Reeve said quietly, and Reno slowly looked over Aerith’s shoulder with widening, enraged eyes.

“ _You_ ,” Reno hissed. “You _motherfu_ _—_ ”

“Calm down,” Aerith said, stepping in front of Reno every time he attempted to step around. “It was an accident, and a well meaning one.”

“Why the hell didn’t he immediately go to the Turks!?”

“Because I’d be dead,” he pointed out.

Reno’s mouth worked, shut, and then opened again. “You are not the dark wizard I imagined.”

Reeve sighed, and led them the rest of the way down the cavern. The blue stone was dull, with nothing special, until a strange hum began to reverberate off the walls. “Shinra has been disturbing the Life Stream more than they realize. The city is powered by what are essentially souls. Our soil’s turning to ash, the trees on the plate are dying.”

Reno was proud that he kept his, “No duh,” to a whisper that only a giggling Aerith could hear.

“I thought if I could maybe redirect the flow, maybe it could somehow sabotage the reactors, little by little. We’d start to lose power at a slow, but consistent enough rate that the company would be forced to find some other way, some other fuel source. Rolling blackouts would make the power company very unpopular until they changed… Something. Anything.”

“But you are some kind of baby witch despite being like twenty years older than me,” Reno filled in, “you’re messing with the dead, and you’ve got to do all this hiding from the Man, of which you are literally one of the top seven. So instead of fixing everything, you open a portal to Hades’ river and send soul-sucking zombies into the slums of Midgar.”

Reeve swallowed. “Something like that.”

“Ifrit’s sweaty sac,” Reno said. “Aerith, how long did you know about this?”

“Two weeks,” she admitted. “But I couldn’t come up with anything reasonable on my own. And then Reeve called me tonight saying he might be able to get you out to me, and it was a full moon, so…”

Reno swore. “You know all this shit interrupted my first real date with Rude?”

Aerith whipped around to turn to him. “You’re _dating_ him!?” she asked eagerly, her serious eyes turning eager. “When did this happen! Details!”

“Where do you think I got this stylish enormous jacket?” Reno asked, and waggled his eyebrows. “Or why I’m in such a stupid inappropriate outfit?”

“I thought you looked hot,” Aerith said with a nod.

“ _Thank_ you,” Reno added.

“Um, the breach?” Reeve croaked.

“You are the _biggest_ buzzkill,” Reno sighed, and Reeve looked rather hurt by the comment, but said nothing else.

“Right, the breach is up this way,” Aerith murmured. “There’s this crazy hole in the ground, I mean, up top, there’s a hole. And at the bottom…” They kept walking until they were spat out into an enormous open area, their mage lights filling it up with a cool glow. There, in the center, was a literal crack in the air, a jagged black line that seemed to pulsate with white and blue light. And above them, the open air was about six storeys up. The distance felt vast, and it made him wish there was no plate so the moonlight could filter its way down into this place.

“No one comes out except right as the sun sets,” Aerith murmured. “So we should be okay until sunrise, when I imagine they’ll try and return.”

“Coming out at night to feed,” Reno said, frowning. “Just keeps getting weirder.” Reno rubbed his fingers together, stepping up to the breach. “Can I touch it or will I just get sucked in and die?”

“I dunno, maybe you should try and see,” Aerith teased, and then coughed gently. “It’s. Probably best you don’t touch it though. Really.”

“Spoilsport,” Reno said, sticking out his tongue. “So, Director,” he continued with less charm. “How the hell did you open this thing?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I did a couple different rituals that were a bit of a mishmash and—”

“Hades in a handbag, are you self taught?” Reno asked.

“Mostly.”

“If I weren’t so pissed at you opening a gateway to Hell, I’d be impressed.” He sighed. “What kinda materials were you using?”

“Stolen books from the Shinra archives I photocopied and then stuck in little binders,” Reeve murmured. “They were very old, but very obviously about your ah, flavor of magic use. They were very difficult to find. Did you know there is actually a hidden staircase within the library there? The architecture is really quite interest—”

“Aerith,” Reno said, turning to her as Reeve’s voice died in his throat. “Do you know any seals?”

She shook her head with a frown. “I’m more about wards. I can empower _your_ magic.”

“Right,” Reno hummed, looking her up and down. “You’re in the white hat. I’m in the black hat. Black mage, blood magic.” He cracked a self-deprecating grin. “It’s only fair I take this one on.”

Aerith blinked. “You have an idea?”

Reno nodded, even as he chuckled in disbelief in himself. “I do, but I’m gonna need chalk or powder. And a knife.”

Aerith nodded, flicking her staff away in a moment of needless showmanship as it hovered vertically nearby. She honest-to-Shiva pulled a long white stick of chalk from over her left ear, and then hiked up her simple white and pink dress to show too much thigh, but also a dark leather holster that she had an attractive, jewel-handled dagger tucked into. She pulled it out, and handed it, and the chalk, to Reno without a word.

Reno took them. “You’re scary as hell, you know that?” he whispered.

She just winked at him. “Hurry it up.”

He rolled his eyes and approached the strange black crack with a grumble. “Yeah, yeah.” He eased to his knees, cursing his choice to not wear pants for the tenth time that night, and carefully tucked the dagger into a safe pocket in the coat. Then he began to draw a pentagram, delicately filling in the necessary symbols while he tried to remember what went where. “God, I haven’t done this in so long. I’m used to at least having incense and candles and atmospheric music.”

“Reeve probably knows some festive spooky tunes,” Aerith hummed.

Reeve choked. “I can assure you, I _do not_.”

Reno stood back up and stared at the seal with a soft frown. “So you won’t like my idea,” he started.

Aerith frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“There’s an oldish spell, that I know. Had to teach myself, after I fooled around with this shit when I was young.” He sighed, glancing over at Reeve. “At least I have the excuse of being 16 when I messed around with the dead. But I can understand the desire to.”

“Reno,” Aerith said.

“Right. Sorry. I think I know how to close it. But we need a conduit who can help ferry these idiots back into the right life stream before it can be shut.”

Aerith’s mouth drew into a thin line. “I won’t let you sacrifice yourself for a dumb breach,” she said. “I don’t care if you said you wanted to be the hero.”

“I should be able to withstand being the conduit,” Reno continued, “especially if you set a ward under my feet, maybe. Empower both the seal and my own intention to redirect.”

“But what about…”

There was a long pause, and Reno dusted off his hands. He pulled his phone out of where he’d tucked it into Rude’s jacket and found the number Rude had programmed in with a sigh, staring at the open screen. No sent messages, and his first one would be under these circumstances?

“I don’t know,” Reno said out loud. “But you know damn well it’s worth it to close it.”

He looked back down at his phone, and sent the message: _I’m sorry._ No sign off. He tucked the phone away, and then pulled the dagger out. “Ward me.”

“Reeve!” Aerith barked. “C’mere and help me.”

“Of course!” Reeve stuttered, and stepped to Aerith’s side as she cast an Arcane Ward underneath Reno’s feet. The drawn pentagram seemed to grow and stretch until it filled the brightly colored ward, and Reno felt a massive burst of spiritual energy crackling through him like a hundred tiny static shocks.

Reno pressed his lips together as he moved the knife over his palm, drawing enough blood for it to drop in a fat red line at the tips of his boots. On the ward, the blood glowed bright red, then purple, then blue, as Reno opened his mouth to begin murmuring an unfamiliar set of words.

It was strange to him how easy they came back to his memory after more than a decade of never even thinking about them, but the oldest magic was always the most musical.

_The gondolier steers the wayward one,  
The juggler of souls, his boat a spoon,  
The river a cauldron, the payment the essence,  
Let me bathe in the cleansing heat,  
Let the wound be closed, the contract sealed._

Aerith’s dagger clattered to the ground as the ward under Reno’s feet filled with searing white blue light that shot straight upward, seizing Reno in its path. It lifted him a foot off the ground, and he could hear the sudden rush of blood in his ears. Or was that the literal sound of the life stream bubbling all around him?

There was more than that, though: a distant screaming, clawing sound, like a four legged beast galloping towards him, and then the first thing — _ghoul_ — threw itself at him, the icy cold sensation filling one arm and then seeming to drain out the other. From his own realm into the flow of life. Another, and another, a nonstop barrage of cold jolts to his body while he could hear the faint sound of massive ice cracking.

He was eighty percent sure that this was the right thing to do. But he was getting _so_ cold that it was hard to stay awake. The seal itself was holding him upright, holding his arms in the right position, so maybe if he just closed his eyes…

Rude had had many moments of extreme focus in his life, where the world would faded away and it was just him and his target. The sight of a head through crosshairs; another boxer’s body shuffling in front of him; an interrogation suspect gazing up at him. This, however, felt different. He could barely feel his feet moving as he dashed up and around debris, could barely hear the crumbling concrete or even the glowing hum of the beam he was running towards. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, hammering hard in his chest, and the sound of his chains hitting him hard on the thigh with every rushed step.

The light loomed above him until it was almost blinding — or would have been, if he hadn’t had sunglasses on. He skittered to a stop before nearly falling into a massive hole where the light was blazing out of. It was a long drop, but all he could really see were the dark blue flashes within the beam itself — the same color as the ghouls had been, flashing down through the light and then seeming to vanish. He stared up, following as the beam seemed to spread out like the roots of a tree over the slum and elsewhere. It was calling to the lost ghouls, bringing them back to this place.

What was at the bottom?

Rude’s heart was pounding faster now. He didn’t know how deep that hole was. But he knew that was where he needed to go. Rude had jumped out of countless helicopters, right? This would be a cakewalk. He just knew he needed to stay out of the center of whatever _that_ was.

When he listened hard, he could hear the cries coming from the light, and let out a slow breath, before he took a running leap into the gaping hole.

He had to admit, he was glad he rolled as he landed, as that felt like a sizable building’s worth of falling, but he was able to pick himself up and see two people staring at him with open mouths directly in front of him: Aerith and— “Reeve!?”

“You just jumped down that hole,” Aerith said in shock, her mouth wobbling. “Oh, bless, you really _do_ like him, don’t you?”

Rude probably would have blushed if he hadn’t stepped around them both and stared at the scene in front of him: Reno’s limp body floating in the air in front of a rapidly shrinking black lightning shape in the air, one arm stuck out while the other hovered closely to the crack. In the light, Reno’s entire body looked pale blue.

“Reno!” he shouted, dashing toward him as Aerith shouted, “Wait!”

Rude stepped right over the glowing ward under his feet and reached up for Reno. He was blue because he was _cold_ , the way he had been on his couch after that first attack. Suddenly he _wished_ all he could hear was his heartbeat, but every noise hit him at once as he touched Reno’s waist high above him: the screaming, the _whoosh_ of the life stream, the cracking of ice — which seemed to be associated with that rapidly closing crack behind him.

“You bastard,” Rude breathed. “You did it.” He found that when he pulled Reno to him, the seal seemed to give him up easily, and Reno floated easily into Rude’s arms. Reno’s own arms still stuck out at a slightly odd angle, that connecting circuit between the living and the dead, and Rude touched his blue lips. He felt a tremor wracking through him, and Rude had dropped to his knees with the ragdoll witch coming curled protectively in his grasp.

Rude was of two minds: one, a yawning, empty ache at the sight of this man he had become so fond of, who had sacrificed himself to literally seal off the broken veil between worlds, who was so close to slipping away from him forever. The other, a rapidly moving encyclopedia of his own past, digging, thinking, panicking: what did he have? What could he use? Did he know anything about any of this?

And then an absolutely insane, stupid idea festered just below the surface. The black crack was inches across now. It was almost over. And he was afraid that if he didn’t do something, _anything_ , he’d lose his chance. So he unclipped the chains from his belt, his lucky keepsake he’d kept with him everywhere, and fastened it around Reno’s beautiful, slim neck.

There was nothing, of course, and so Rude just clutched the cold body to his chest, his cheek buried in that ridiculous black hat, and began to murmur under his breath the old song his loving Lita had sung to him.

_Don’t get lost, don’t stray  
Or they’ll come and take you away  
If you do, hold tight and sing  
She’ll take you under her wing  
Golden Phoenix can set you free  
She’ll bring you safely back to me_

Rude forced himself to keep his eyes open as he watched the light behind them shift from blue back to glowing white, and then slowly shift to a more vibrant gold. The chains he’d tied around Reno’s neck began to glitter and then disappear, one link at a time. They burst into small puffs that spun into a great aura that wrapped around them both, moving faster and faster until Reno’s head jerked backwards and aimed up, taking in a gasping breath. The golden glitter shot straight into his open mouth, and then a cacophonous boom shook the cave as the beam shot up into the air into nothing, and the crack behind them disappeared.

They were all struck into silence for a long, tense moment, until behind them, Aerith shrieked, “ _Hell yeah!_ ”

Reno blinked his wide eyes, cat’s pupils drawn wide. “Did I do it?” he croaked.

“You _idiot_ ,” Rude hissed, and pushed Reno’s hat off before he clutched him tightly into his grasp again, pulling the exhausted man into his lap. “Yeah, you did. You saved the day and everything,” he said into Reno’s soft red hair.

Reno hummed, pleased as he felt Rude’s gloved hands clutching him so tightly. “Why’m I an idiot then?”

“I could have lost you,” Rude murmured, pulling back just enough to look Reno in the eye. “I don’t ever intend to lose you.”

Reno’s expression melted into something so desperately sincere, Rude felt his heart ache. “Don’t say stuff you can’t back up,” he whispered.

“I mean it,” Rude whispered, and kissed him hard to make up for the lost kiss at the helipad, the interrupted date, the _you almost died._ They clutched at each other, exhausted and exhilirated, until something very odd happened: a rope fell down near them.

Rude pulled back, even though Reno chased after his lips, and then they both turned their heads to see a very confused blonde woman in a white button down and gun holsters slide down the rope.

“I _knew_ you had a boyfriend!” Gun accused, and then glanced around. “Director!?”

“I can explain!” Reeve said, and huddled Gun over as other Shinra military police began sliding down the rope.

Rude laughed, pulling Reno’s head into his chest. “I broke a family heirloom for you, I hope you know,” he whispered.

“You got any more magic charms I should know about?” Reno said, voice muffled in Rude’s expensive suit.

“Just you,” Rude said, and it was so sappy that Reno refused to lift his head, knowing his face had gone bright red.

Aerith leaned down to the two of them with a tender expression. “You want me to sneak you out while Reeve takes care of the paperwork?” she winked.

Rude stood up easily, even with Reno still in his arms, and nodded. Reno had to look up then, and his red face turned into a swooning one. “Why the hell is Reeve here, anyway?” Rude asked.

Aerith and Reno glanced at each other and said, in terrifying unison, “You don’t wanna know.”

_Three Months Later_

Rude was splayed out in Reno’s strange, cozy bed littered in quilts and at least one fur of an animal he didn’t recognize, only in the gray sweats Reno had gifted him. Velvet was slowly slithering around Rude’s shoulders and chest until she coiled up comfortably over his heart, her fat head peeking out to gaze up at him knowingly.

Rude brought a finger down to pet her head, and she relaxed into a cozy slumber. He glanced around the room, and then found himself staring at a little window sill, littered with trinkets and one tall bottle.

Reno sauntered back into his room only in the bright purple underwear with little black cats on them he’d shimmied into, a tray of cookies and tea floating behind him. “Still mad she seems to like you more than me,” he pouted, even as he slid back into the bed and glued himself to Rude’s broad side.

“I just give off a lot of heat,” Rude murmured, his arm curling around Reno as he watched the little floating tray settle onto the bedside stand. Reno pressed close, his arm settling low around Rude’s stomach, and just let out a contented sigh.

They enjoyed the cuddling, knowing how cold it was outside, but Rude’s eyes kept lingering on the window. “You never drank the wine, huh?” he finally said.

“The…?” Reno’s eyes opened and peeked up at him, pupils drawing into a thin line, and then widening again. “Oh! Honestly? It was the reason I came to Shinra HQ, to find you.” He smiled self deprecatingly. “I swear that stupid bottle judged me and sent me bad dreams.”

“Yet you kept it,” Rude said.

“Pretty sure it knew what I was supposed to do,” Reno chuckled. “Still. Think it’s still good?”

Rude shook his head. “Better a keepsake at this point,” he hummed, chuckling when Reno threw a thin leg over his own. “Though maybe I should take you back to that place. It’ll be much nicer under different circumstances.”

“It was so stuffy, and you were dressed like a dang body guard. On a date!”

“Hm,” Rude agreed, and slid his free hand over to Velvet again. “What if I let you dress me?”

Reno actually sat up at that, staring down at Rude. “However I wanted?”

Rude nodded, and then lifted an eyebrow at him. Reno tried very hard not to fall deep into those warm brown eyes. “Are you going to dress me up like a damn witch?”

“However I wanted,” Reno confirmed, his smirk devilish, and curled himself back up against Rude’s side. Rude just chuckled, and when his petting of the snake seemed to irritate her to slither off of him, he was able to roll to his side and gather Reno up in his arms.

“Whatever you want,” Rude agreed, and kissed him, easy and slow, until their tea went cold and those purple cat underwear flew across the room — no magic required.


End file.
